


Pride

by AudacityOfHuge



Series: Post-Series R&I [2]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, F/F, Humor, LGBT issues, Lighthearted, Pride, Romance, Sequel, non-murder mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudacityOfHuge/pseuds/AudacityOfHuge
Summary: Upon release of her first novel, Maura abruptly becomes a celebrity in the literary world. Suddenly many things about her private life are now public, including her relationship with Jane. The two of them must navigate entry into the LGBT community which, up until now, has been completely separate from their lives.This is a direct sequel to my previous fic, "In Your Absence".





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Gather round, children, for I have another yarn for you. (Although children probably should not read this LOL.)
> 
> This story will be an interesting experiment for me. Instead of writing super far ahead like I usually do, I’m going to put this one up as I complete chapters for it. I’ve got it all planned out, but not actually written. That means the update speed will be variable, but hopefully not unreasonably slow. We’ll see how this works out. I’ve got a lot going on in my brain and in my life, and I’m hoping this fic will be therapeutic.
> 
> Anyway, this fic is a direct sequel to “In Your Absence.” It is highly recommended that you read that one first, otherwise you will be a little confused about this one.
> 
> Here we go.

Jane sat reclined in her chair with her booted feet up on the desk, contemplating the ring she’d bought for Maura.

She’d had it for a while, nearly a year now. Purchasing it had been one of the first things she’d done after returning from Quantico. No one else knew about it, but it warmed her to look at the ring. It was her secret pleasure to take it out and twirl it between her fingers, tracing its perfectly round shape and smoothing the pads of her fingers over its surface. She liked to imagine what it would feel like to run her fingers along it once it was in its rightful place on Maura’s left hand.

It was a simple ring, nothing extravagant. She couldn’t afford much, and she knew Maura wouldn’t want a huge, fancy ring anyway. All she would care about is the sentiment behind the ring, and about the fact that Jane had been the one to give it to her.

But she hadn’t given it to Maura yet, and that was what Jane was thinking about now. Because she knew deep in her heart that the time had come at last. She was finally ready. The perfect opportunity was coming up this weekend, and she fully intended to take advantage of it.

She tucked the ring into her palm and closed it tightly in her fist, feeling it dig into her skin. Then she looked up at the sound of the front door opening. Tommy had returned from his stake-out.

“How’d it go?” she asked, watching as he went to his own desk and plopped down behind it.

“You were right,” he replied. “He’s cheating.”

“You owe me five bucks. Did you get the pics?”

“Yeah, I got ‘em.” As he spoke he plugged his camera in to his computer to begin uploading the pictures in question. “You’ll have ‘em in a sec.”

Affection washed through Jane as she watched him work. Tommy had come such a long way in the last couple of years, and these last few months in particular. After a lot of hard work and diligence, he had obtained his Private Investigator’s license and begun working with Jane full-time at the agency. Though he’d had a few stumbles in the beginning, now he was far more confident in his detective skills and was loving the job. He even seemed to enjoy the long, boring hours of sitting in a car outside a building waiting for a glimpse of a subject.

Jane was proud of the agency she’d created. She had named it Rizzoli Investigations, which was simple and unimaginative but Jane figured that most of her business was going to be generated through name recognition so it was good to put it out there. As a detective in the Boston Police Department she'd had a lot more than the usual fifteen minutes of fame, and anyone looking to hire a PI in the city of Boston would see her credentials simply by doing a quick internet search of her name. It seemed to be working well, as she’d had a steady stream of clients ever since her doors had opened, and in the thirty or so cases she’d taken on since starting she’d been able to close every single one. Suffice to say, her Yelp reviews were  _ stellar _ .

Having Tommy was a tremendous help because now she could delegate some of the long, tedious stake-outs to him instead of having to do them all herself. Everyone in the family fought for the privilege of watching TJ on those occasions. TJ idolized his father and was avidly interested in his new career path, and Jane loved to see the way Tommy puffed up with pride every time TJ gushed about how cool his job was. She could picture hiring TJ on when he became a teenager, maybe just part-time to do some clerical work. After all, this was a family business.

The office itself was located in downtown Boston, not far from the police station. It was small - too small, maybe. There were only two rooms: A waiting area, and the office. Both Tommy and Jane kept their desks in the office, which Tommy complained about endlessly. He insisted that there was no reason to have a waiting area when there was rarely more than one client in the office at a time. But Jane wanted to dream big. She could picture the waiting area filled with people who wanted them to track down a long-lost family member, or find out who stole a priceless painting out of their living room, or figure out why their spouses weren’t coming home until well after midnight. 

It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was satisfying and Jane enjoyed it immensely. She liked being her own boss, picking her own cases, and working those cases her own way. And she liked sharing the work with Tommy, who was clearly getting the same fulfillment out of it.

An email popped up in her inbox and she opened it, examining the pictures that Tommy had just forwarded. There was no doubt about it, the guy was having an affair. Tommy had even managed to get a picture of the cheater and his mistress kissing - what they referred to in the biz as “the money shot.”

“Damn, Tommy, good work. These are perfect,” she said, letting out a low whistle of appreciation.

Tommy crossed the room to hand her the five dollars he owed her for losing their bet. She winked as she reached out to take it, but when she saw the expression on his face she realized belatedly that she was still holding the ring in her hand. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his eyes dancing with excitement.

Not even bothering to hold back her grin, she replied, “Yeah.”

“Holy shit, Jane! Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“When did you get that?”

Jane gave an embarrassed laugh. “About a month after I came back to Boston.”

“Dude, why haven’t you proposed yet?”

“Timing wasn’t right.” She shrugged, dropping her gaze bashfully. “Besides, we’re basically like a married couple already. We’ve been together for over a year, we live together, we’re out to both our families, and we’re completely committed to our future together. This is really not that big a deal.”

“Not a big deal?” repeated Tommy incredulously. “Jane, you bought Maura an engagement ring!”

“I am aware of that, yes,” said Jane drolly, tapping the ring on the surface of her desk.

Instead of answering, Tommy gestured at the ring as if to say: “See??”

A smile returned to Jane’s lips and she laughed again. “Okay, fine. It’s a big deal.” When Tommy whooped and came around the desk to hug her, she pushed him away playfully. “It’s pretty wild,” she admitted. “Never in my life did I imagine I’d ever have to propose to someone. I always thought I’d be the propose-ee. I mean, I  _ have _ been proposed to before.” By Casey, she added mentally, and she was determined that her proposal to Maura would be far more romantic and memorable than his had been to her. “It feels pretty crazy to be on the other side.”

“I bet,” said Tommy. “You hear about gay marriage and stuff but I guess I never really thought about the nuts and bolts of it. Who’s gonna wear the pants at your wedding?”

Jane was about to hit him in the arm when she saw his shit-eating grin and knew he was kidding. She decided to play along instead. “Me,” she replied. “I don’t wear dresses. And I hope you like destination weddings, because Maura once told me that she wants to get married above a volcano.”

“Yikes. That sounds expensive.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta let her do it since she’s already had to compromise on her spouse. She wanted to marry some dead guy who invented the autopsy hundreds of years ago. She’s settling for me as a close second.”

Tommy snorted. “Oh, please. Maura would choose you over some stuffy dead scientist any day.”

“Um, thanks I think?”

“You’re welcome.” He reached over and took the ring from her fingers, examining it closely. Then he handed it back to her. “When are you gonna do it?”

“This weekend at the conference.”

Grinning mischievously, Tommy said, “Bet you five bucks she says yes.”

“I’m gonna pass on that one, Tommy,” said Jane as she began gathering her things to go home. “There’s no way you’re gonna lose that bet. Now if you’ll excuse me, my future wife is making ravioli tonight and I’m starving.”

The drive from her office to the house in Beacon Hill she now shared with Maura took her about half an hour. She used the time to return to her musings about the upcoming proposal and think about what she might say. But every time she tried to come up with the right words, they escaped her. The truth was that she had never been a planner, not when it came to stuff like this. It didn’t help that she’d never been very good at talking about her feelings. A little over a year ago she had spent an entire week composing a letter to Maura which detailed her feelings for her, but she hadn’t felt quite that eloquent since. Of course it was easy to tell Maura how much she loved her, but that was because it was such an essential truth that the words seemed to come without effort. But a marriage proposal should be more, shouldn't it? It should be poetry and flowers and chocolate and music and fireworks and all that other romantic bullshit that usually made Jane wince.

She sighed as she pulled the car into the driveway, knowing that not a single bit of headway had been made. As usual, she would just have to wing it and hope Maura liked it. So far her instincts had never failed her in that respect, and she’d have to hope they held fast.

The door was unlocked and as soon as she pushed it open she could hear that the radio was playing a classic rock song. Maura must be listening to it as she cooked. Jane was about to call out to her but snapped her mouth shut when she rounded the corner and found Maura dancing in the kitchen. Her back was to Jane and she was using a rolling pin on a large slab of dough on the counter. She was wearing an apron, her hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, and she was swinging her hips to the beat as she worked.

Jane’s mouth went dry. No amount of time with Maura would ever stop her knees from turning to jelly at just how sexy she was without even trying. Heat rushed through her and her fingertips itched to touch. She dropped her bag on the floor and approached Maura from behind, resting her palms on those swinging hips. When Maura stopped moving and started to turn, Jane held her in place. “Keep going,” she murmured into Maura’s ear, making her smile at Jane over her shoulder.

Obediently, she resumed her dancing, her movements slower and more sultry. “This does it for you, huh?” commented Maura casually as she ground her backside against Jane’s pelvis. “Kind of neanderthalic, don’t you think? To be attracted to something that someone is waving in front of your face? I thought you had higher brain function than that.”

Distracted by Maura’s movements, Jane said, “Huh?” Even through her aroused fog she managed to catch Maura’s laugh, and in return she dipped down to nip lightly on her earlobe. At the same time she slid her hands forward on Maura’s body, worming them under the apron to rest on the button of Maura’s pants. “Were you saying something?” she murmured.

“Never mind,” gasped Maura as Jane deftly undid the clasp and slid her hands down the front of her panties. “Jane…”

“Shh,” Jane interrupted her, her fingers now making determined and focused strokes against Maura’s clit. “Less talking. More sexing.”

“But Jane…” Maura bit back a groan and braced herself against the countertop, spreading her legs wider for Jane. She forgot all about why she was protesting and turned her head to meet Jane’s lips instead, leaning father back against the warm, familiar body behind her. “Faster, Jane,” she panted, reaching back to squeeze Jane’s thigh in encouragement.

Jane loved it when Maura made requests like that. She complied at once, increasing her tempo and soaking in the way it made Maura’s breathing reduce to sharp gasps and moans. Her heart was pounding in her ears, all her attention focused on the woman in her arms - particularly the wet warmth beneath her fingers. Maura was close, she could tell. Any second now would come that magical moment when her lover’s body would tense and then release, a sexy moan dropping from her lips as she did. Yes, any second now…

“Hey guys! We’re here!”

Jane quickly withdrew her hand and jumped away from Maura just in time to see Frankie and a heavily pregnant Nina rounding the corner. It was as though her entire body had been submerged in ice water and then set on fire as embarrassment rushed through her. Looking at Maura, she was annoyed to see the suppressed laughter written all over her face. “That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Maura said out of the corner of her mouth, then turned to greet their guests, grateful that the apron was hiding the fact that her pants were still unbuttoned. 

“Not cool,” grumbled Jane. She excused herself to the restroom to wash her hands and collect herself before facing her brother and sister-in-law. The worst thing, she decided, was that she hadn’t even gotten to make Maura come before they were so rudely interrupted.

When she rejoined the group Nina smirked at her. Yes, she knew exactly what she’d interrupted. Jane stuck her tongue out at her. “You couldn’t have been like 60 seconds late?” she asked in a low voice so Frankie wouldn’t hear. “Your timing was super inconvenient.”

“Sorry, girl,” said Nina sympathetically, munching on some peanuts as she sat at the counter, “but when this baby is hungry, she waits for no woman.” Nina was nine months pregnant and looked fit to pop any day now. Everyone in the family was excited to welcome their newest member, especially since they’d missed out on so many years of spoiling TJ rotten.

“Do you think Frankie knows?”

“Absolutely not. He’s still here talking to Maura, isn’t he? There’s no way he’d be able to do that if he knew.” She laughed. “Can you even imagine? I love the guy to death, but he’d be so awkward about it.”

As far as Jane could tell, Nina was right. Frankie was perfectly normal all throughout dinner. They talked and laughed as they sat around the table. Maura and Frankie told Jane and Nina about their most recent murder, which Nina missed out on because she had started her maternity leave at the beginning of that week. Her due date was right around the corner and finally even sitting at a desk had become too much for her. 

It was nice to hear the stories about the police work, but Jane found she didn’t miss it at all. Being a detective at BPD meant being subject to long hours and significant danger, and also dealing with precinct politics that she’d never had the patience for. She was happy in her new job as a PI.

It was a good thing Jane had more leeway in her life, too, because Maura was gradually taking on a new role as well. Her first novel had been published a few months ago, and ever since then their lives had been a whirlwind of publicity. The critics had gone crazy over the book, absolutely showering it with praise. The reviewer from  _ The New York Times _ had written: “Newcomer Dr. Maura Isles’s  _ Forensic Instinct _ has the makings of not only a promising new mystery series, but of an entirely different type of mystery novel altogether. By focusing on the often flawed science behind the investigation, Dr. Isles forces us to question everything we thought we knew about solving crimes. She is a fresh perspective and a voice we certainly hope to hear more from in the future.”

The book became an instant bestseller. After just a month of being available in stores, it had spread like wildfire. Jane would never forget the first time they’d seen a stranger reading the book in public. She and Maura had been running in the park when Maura had stopped dead.

“What’s wrong?” Jane had asked.

For answer, Maura had simply pointed to a woman on a park bench. She was sitting quietly reading Maura’s novel.

That night they had celebrated. Jane had taken Maura to a fancy restaurant where they spent too much money on wine, then stumbled home and made love for hours before passing out. It was the only way Jane could think of to express just how proud she was of Maura. 

After that day things had only gotten crazier for Maura. Requests for her presence at readings and speaking events had come pouring in. She’d had no choice but to hire a publicist to coordinate everything because it was too difficult to manage it all and still maintain her work schedule. Maura was even considering stepping down as Chief Medical Examiner to write full-time if this kept up, but she didn’t want to do it until she was absolutely sure it was what she wanted. Jane promised to support her no matter what she decided to do.

And Jane was doing her best to support her through all the chaos, too. She attended as many of the events as she could. In truth she loved attending the events because it was nice to hear people compliment Maura for hours at a time. If anyone deserved compliments, it was Dr. Maura Isles.

As they were having dessert, Maura’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and said, “I’m so sorry, but I have to take this. It’s my publicist. He’s probably calling about the conference.”

“You’re fine,” Frankie assured her. Once she had answered and walked out of the room, he turned to Jane and hissed: “Tommy texted me. Good luck this weekend, even though I know you won’t need it.”

“My god,” said Jane, exasperated. “Doesn’t anyone in this family care about privacy?”

“Nope,” said Frankie.

“Nuh uh,” added Nina.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Well, thanks I guess. You’re right though. She’s going to say yes.”

“How are you gonna do it?” asked Nina excitedly. “In the middle of the conference? Public proposals are so sweet!”

But Jane shook her head vehemently. “Hell no. Her life is public enough these days. I don’t have the details nailed down yet, but I know it’ll be in private at least.”

“You don’t have anything planned, do you?” said Frankie suspiciously.

“Not really, no,” admitted Jane. “But it’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t think of how I wanted to do mine until the last minute either,” said Frankie, “and it worked out okay. Right babe?”

Nina smiled sweetly at him. “Right.”

Maura returned to the room and resumed her seat beside Jane, who reached over to take her hand. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Maura assured her. “He just wanted to make sure I was all prepared with my acceptance speech. I still can’t believe they’re giving me this award.”

“It’s well-deserved,” Jane said. “I read the book of the guy who won it the year I went with you to to the Mystery Writers' Conference and yours was way better.”

“Wasn’t that the year you had that ghost murder case?” said Nina.

“Yeah. Maura dragged me to the conference with her and we watched Bud Butler accept the Book of the Year award. I was curious about it so I read it. I figured out who the murderer was in like two chapters. It was pretty much your average murder mystery. But your book is entirely different, Maura. Not only was your case a lot more complicated, but you presented it in an inventive way. Trust me, you deserve the award.”

Completely flattered and smitten, Maura smiled at Jane before leaning over to kiss her lightly. “Thank you. Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you love me?”

Shrugging, Jane said, “Can’t it be both?”


	2. Chapter Two

"Really Maura? Another one? This is more stuff than you brought to Paris, and we were going there for a month, not a weekend," complained Jane when Maura brought yet another bag out of the house and down the driveway towards the Prius.

Joining Jane near the open hatchback, Maura said, "Are you surprised? You know I don't travel light. I believe in being thorough. I don't want to forget anything."

"You know we're still going to be in Boston, right? If you need something we could always come home for an hour."

"I think I'll probably be too busy for that. Charles has lined up at least a dozen interviews for me." Maura passed Jane the bag and watched as she expertly found a place for it among the others already piled into the trunk. "I can't imagine what they're all going to ask me about. I hope the answers I've prepared will be sufficient."

"I'm sure you'll be fine even if they hit you with something you didn't prepare for. It's not like this is your first brush with the media, after all."

"That is true," agreed Maura. She'd had plenty of opportunities to address the masses, both in her tenure as the Chief Medical Examiner and her personal life as the daughter of a mob boss. Although human interaction wasn't her strong suit, she knew she was adept at giving noncommittal answers to tough questions if she was ever confronted with something she wasn't particularly interested in sharing.

"And remember," said Jane as she slammed the door of the tightly packed trunk shut, "if all else fails, you can just escape. All you need to do is pull one of these." She pointed off in another direction. "Look over there!"

When Maura turned her head to look, Jane quickly stepped in and pecked her on the cheek. Maura burst into laughter. "Oh my god, I can't believe I fell for that."

"Neither can I," said Jane, also laughing. She reached out to gather Maura into her arms and give her a proper kiss. "You're so cute and gullible."

"I wouldn't have fallen for it if I wasn't so nervous," said Maura defensively. "I'm not performing at my highest capacity."

"Maura," Jane said seriously, demanding Maura's full attention. "You. Have nothing. To worry about. Everything is fine, everything is going to be fine, and we are going to have a great time. We're gonna wear gorgeous dresses and you're going to get a shiny award that you definitely deserve, and then we're gonna get drunk on super pretentious champagne and spend the night in a fancy hotel doing unspeakable things to each other, and it's all going to be on someone else's dime. Honestly, what is there to be nervous about? You love doing all that shit, right?"

"I do indeed. Especially the unspeakable things part. In fact I wish I was doing them to you right now." Maura quirked an eyebrow suggestively, and Jane waggled hers in return.

"I basically always wish we were doing that. But you and I both know we have to head out."

"I know." But instead of pulling away from Jane, Maura tugged her closer for another long kiss. "Thank you for always calming me down. Do you realize I haven't had a single attack of hives since we told my mother about us?"

Jane blinked in surprise. No, she hadn't realized that. There had been definitely been hives when Constance had come to visit and they'd broken the news that they were a couple, but that had been nearly nine months ago. She tried to think if there had been any occasions where she'd seen Maura get that worked up since, but she came up empty. Not even the stress of all the recent publicity had seemed to cause Maura any significant emotional upheaval. "Wow," she said finally. "You're right. How is that possible?"

"It's because of you. You always seem to know exactly what to say and when to say it. It's always been that way to a certain extent, but it's become a lot more effective ever since we became lovers. Which makes sense if you think about it, because you're still my best friend now, but you're also a lot more. Studies have shown that love can make you feel tranquil and calm, and every day I love you more and more. Therefore, I haven't experienced enough anxiety to undo the psychological benefits of that love. In other words, you're so good for me that it's a wonder I ever managed to get through my days without being able to kiss you." And to prove her point she gave Jane another kiss, which was returned enthusiastically.

It went on for a while, to the point where Jane was about to suggest they ditch the conference and hole up in bed all weekend instead, but then a new voice floated to her ears and promptly grated like nails on a chalkboard. "Girls! Knock it off with that in the damn driveway!"

Angela was headed their way from the guesthouse. Reluctantly Jane separated from Maura and turned to greet her mother. "Sorry, Ma," she said unconvincingly.

"Honestly, do you want to give the whole neighborhood a show? And I'm not just saying that because of the lesbian thing," said Angela. "I'd complain about it if one of you was a man, too."

"Oh, good. You're an equal opportunity annoyance," said Jane.

A hand reached out to slap Jane's arm quicker than she could dodge. "How dare you speak to your mother like that!"

"Sorry, Ma," repeated Jane, but it was undermined by her laughter.

"I didn't realize you were here, Angela," said Maura diplomatically, ignoring their antics. "I thought you were working this morning."

Gracefully accepting the subject change, Angela explained, "I took a later shift. I wanted to have a chance to say goodbye and good luck and congratulations before you left." She threw her arms around Maura, hugging her tightly. "I'm so proud of you, Maura. You go out there and knock 'em dead!"

Maura returned the hug and said, "Thank you." But that was all she could say because she was feeling a little choked up, just as she always did whenever Angela was particularly maternal towards her. She still wasn't accustomed to hearing someone she thought of as a mother express such simple sentiments as "I'm proud of you."

Not long after that Jane and Maura bid farewell to Angela and headed off into the city towards the convention center on the opposite end of Boston. They made slow progress through streets crowded with morning commuters. As they sat in traffic Maura mentally went over some of her prepared answers for possible interview questions. She knew they would ask about her career as a medical examiner, her opinions on some of the subjects she wrote about in her book, her writing process and experience, and her thoughts on the phenomenal response to her novel.

And they were also going to ask about Jane.

As soon as Maura had started venturing out into the limelight, they both knew it was only a matter of time before they couldn't avoid it anymore. This conference, they agreed, was the best opportunity to get ahead of the rumors. The book was dedicated to Jane, Jane was her date to the event, and she was planning to thank Jane profusely and specifically in her acceptance speech. There was no way around it: After this weekend, everyone would know for sure that Dr. Maura Isles, the Chief Medical Examiner of Massachusetts and author of _Forensic Instinct_, was in a romantic relationship with a woman.

It wasn't necessarily that Maura wanted everyone to know, but she certainly had no intention of hiding it either. And Jane agreed that it was the best thing to do. If they didn't come out of the closet now, then they would be shoved out later. At least this way they would get to pick the time and manner of their coming out.

If she were being honest with herself, Maura felt a little out of her depth about it. She'd spent her entire life except the last year believing herself to be strictly heterosexual. If she'd never met Jane, she supposed she still would be. But the fact of the matter was that she _was_ in a long-term, committed relationship with another woman, and for that reason people were going to label her as a lesbian. Even Angela had done it mere moments ago outside her house, and Angela knew damn well that Maura had been with plenty of men. The label didn't bother her, but she wasn't exactly comfortable with it either. She felt unqualified for it. She didn't know the first thing about being a lesbian, aside from how to love a woman. On that, at least, she was an expert.

As though reading her thoughts, Jane reached over to take her hand and asked, "You ready for the whole world to stick its nose in our business?"

Maura considered the question carefully. Was she ready for this? She looked down at her hand linked with Jane's, thinking about how Jane had given up her career in the FBI just to come back to Boston and be with her. And now Maura was dragging their relationship out into the open for anyone to see. Jane had told her that she didn't care one bit what anyone thought of her. If people wanted to call her a lesbian, she was fine with that. All she cared about in all this was Maura. All she wanted was for Maura to be happy. And what would make Maura happy is to be with Jane, and to not have to hide how she felt about her. The least she could do to honor Jane's sacrifice was live her life as fearlessly as Jane lived hers. Why should she care what anyone else thought? Jane loved her, and she loved Jane. That was the only thing that mattered. So she squeezed Jane's hand and replied, "Absolutely."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If the alternative to not letting people into our business is having to hide how important you are to me, then there's simply no question as to which route I'd rather take." She raised Jane's hand up to her lips and kissed the back of it. "What about you? Are you having any reservations?"

Jane shook her head. "No. We've got nothing to hide. We're just two people who love each other, right? Why should we be scared or ashamed of letting people know that? Screw anyone who's got a problem with it. I'll beat them up."

"Please don't beat anyone up," said Maura quickly.

"I'm sorry, but I can't commit to that right now. I promise I'll _try_ not to beat anyone up."

With a sigh, Maura said, "I suppose that'll have to do for now."

They pulled up to the front of the hotel and got out. Some staff members immediately swarmed the car and began helping Jane load their luggage onto a cart. Meanwhile, Maura had caught sight of her publicist Charles waiting outside the building, talking on his Bluetooth headset and poking a tablet. When he noticed Maura he ended the call and went to give her a hug. It was sheer coincidence that Maura had managed to hire the gayest man in Boston to manage her writing career. He was tall, handsome, well-built, and he had a killer smile. He was also organized and sharp, and he was exactly what Maura needed in this moment of her life.

"Dr. Styles," he said jovially, holding Maura at arm's length to take in her fashionable outfit with an approving eye. "You look fabulous as always."

"Thank you, Charles," she replied modestly as Jane came over to join them. Since Charles had only met her once, Maura said, "You remember my partner Jane?"

"How could I forget?" He ignored Jane's outstretched hand and went in for a hug with her, too. Maura hid her laughter behind her hand, knowing how annoyed that would make Jane. "So, are you two ready to storm the gay beaches?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," replied Maura, wrapping an arm around Jane's waist.

"Good," said Charles. "Don't worry about a thing, alright? Even if there's backlash at first, I think ultimately it's the best idea."

Jane asked, "Are you thinking there's gonna be backlash?"

Charles waggled his hand in the air. "Maybe a little. But nothing to your face, I'd bet. I don't know if your experience has been different, but I've found most people really don't care if you're gay or straight these days. It's gotten a lot better over the last decade, anyway."

"If you say so," said Jane. "Can't say it's something I've really paid very much attention to, so I'll have to take your word for it."

A confused look came over Charles's handsome face. "But… Aren't you queer? I mean, you're with a woman so you're not totally straight, right?"

Shrugging, Jane answered, "Maura's the only woman I've ever wanted to be with, so gay things have never been a part of my life before."

She could have laughed at how utterly lost he looked. It looked like he had ten thousand questions he wanted to ask, but couldn't quite settle on one. "I'm going to need to hear more about this," he said, "but later. Maura, we need to go over your schedule. Do you have time?"

"Sure. Jane, why don't you get us checked in and settled and I'll meet you upstairs, alright?"

"No need to check in, I did that for you," interrupted Charles. He handed Jane a magnetic keycard. "You're on the top floor, suite A. Best room the hotel, of course."

Grinning, Jane took the card. "Of course," she repeated. "Nothing but the best for Dr. Maura Styles. See you in a bit." She leaned down and stole a quick kiss from Maura before striding off into the building.

Charles watched her go, openly appreciating her confident swagger. "If I was ever gonna pick a woman, I'd go with her. She's _really_ hot. I mean, like, really, _really_ hot," he said, and Maura laughed.

"I wholeheartedly agree."

"How long have you two been a thing?"

"I suppose that would depend on how you define a 'thing.' She was my completely platonic best friend for ten years prior to becoming my lover, which happened a little over a year ago."

Looking enticed, Charles put his hands on his hips. "Dish, girl," he said. "That is way too fucking cute and I need to hear the whole damn story now."

"Stop it, Charles," Maura chided him affectionately. "Don't we have work to do?"

"Boo," said Charles, pouting. "You're no fun. Fine, yes, we have work to do. Let's sit at the bar and go over this. It shouldn't take long."

Without further complaint, he shifted easily into business mode and over the next fifteen minutes they went through the schedule for the entire conference. It would start that afternoon with a meet and greet, followed by panel discussions, writing workshops, vendor booths and various other conference activities, almost none of which Maura would be able to attend as she had several interviews lined up that day. The following day would be more panels and presentations, which would conclude with a dinner and the award ceremony in the evening. Then the last day of the convention would contain more panels. There were a total of three panels on which Maura would actually be sitting that weekend. The conference organizers had asked her to be a panelist on the Forensic Science discussion, as well as the panel on writing strong female characters. And her own book was the topic of the third panel, where she would do a reading and answer questions from fans. On Sunday Maura had a large section of time blocked out for book signing. And spaced all throughout the entire weekend were interviews with news organizations, book reviewers, and literature columnists for various print and online media. Maura was exhausted just looking at all the things she had to do.

"I sure hope Jane can find something to entertain herself with, because I'll be too busy to do it for her," said Maura.

"It looks worse than it is," Charles promised her. "There are a lot of interviews, but they will be short. Everyone knows you're going to be stretched thin this weekend. And the panels are on a strict schedule so there's no chance of them running long. What you see is what you'll get. You will be busy, obviously, but I think it's not only manageable, but it'll also be great publicity and excellent for your career. You're going to sell a lot of books this weekend."

"I'm sure you're right," said Maura dryly. Her publisher had told her they had shipped no fewer than three thousand copies of her book to the convention center to sell in their booth, and they were fully expecting to leave with none. The thought was staggering. Maura still couldn't believe all this was happening. She'd never expected her novel to be so beloved. She'd really only written it for her own pleasure and had been surprised when she'd even managed to get it published. But now everything was different. Now she was the recipient of the Mystery Writer's Society Book of the Year award.

Once she'd finished with Charles she headed upstairs to get changed. She found Jane sprawled out on the sofa in the living area of their hotel room. "Check this shit out, Maur," she said gleefully. "Our hotel room has _two rooms_! Talk about swanky!"

Her childlike glee and wonder quickly banished all Maura's stress and dread over the coming weekend. Just as she'd been doing for months now, Jane helped keep her emotions from boiling over to the point of an attack of hives. She laughed and said, "Yes, the most expensive suites often do. This is your first time in a hotel room like this, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah," replied Jane. "This place is great." She hopped up from the couch and grabbed Maura's hand, pulling her around the room. "Look, we have a little kitchenette over here with an oven and a fridge, although I have no idea why since everyone probably just orders room service. But it's nice to know that if we decide we want to heat up some frozen pizza or something, we have the technology. And come look at the bedroom!" The tour continued, Maura following her excited lover through the doorway. "This bed, Maura. This _bed_!" She collapsed onto the enormous bed, spreading her arms and legs out wide. "Come feel how soft it is."

Rather than get on the mattress, Maura climbed directly on top of Jane and laid on her, instead. "You're right," she teased, settling her head on Jane's chest. "Very, very soft. A bit lumpy though."

Jane laughed. "You're doing it wrong, sweetie. See?" She expertly flipped Maura so that she was on her back with Jane hovering over her. "Soft, right?"

Raising herself up a bit, Maura captured Jane's lips in a sweet, affectionate kiss. "The softest," she murmured.

"You're so bad," said Jane. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Are you even excited about this swanky place?"

"I'm excited that you're excited," replied Maura. "I love seeing you like this."

This earned Maura another kiss and a smile. "You haven't even seen the best part," she said afterwards, running her fingertips along Maura's face.

"Show me."

Jane climbed off Maura and led her to a large sliding glass door. It opened up to a balcony which overlooked the entire city of Boston. They both stood still for a moment, taking in the view in silence. "Pretty cool, right?" said Jane in a hushed voice.

"Very," agreed Maura. She had to admit, this was nice. Boston was her home, and though she'd spent a lot of time in Paris and Venice and many other more objectively and classically beautiful cities, she'd never loved a place the way she loved Boston. This was where she'd found her family, her happiness, her life, and above all, her heart. Seeing it sprawled out before her was unexpectedly emotional, and she cuddled closer to Jane as a result. "It's perfect," she said.

"_You're_ perfect," countered Jane before pulling her into a warm embrace. For a long moment they simply held each other, listening to the sounds of the city below them. Eventually Jane said, "I forgot to mention that the shower has two heads, and one of them is _removable_." She pulled back enough that Maura could see her waggle her eyebrows suggestively. "What do you say we start getting ready a little early, huh?"

"I'd say that's the best idea I've heard all day," replied Maura, greatly intrigued and already picturing exactly what Jane had in mind.

Later, once they'd fully tested the capabilities of the shower head, she and Jane got dressed and rode the elevator to the banquet hall where all the most prestigious attendees of the conference were gathered to mingle before the activities began and the place became packed with mystery novel fans.

The two of them paused outside the doors, each taking a deep breath. "Here we go," said Jane, gripping Maura's hand tightly.

"Let's do it," replied Maura, squeezing back.

They entered the banquet hall together, still hand-in-hand.


	3. Chapter Three

Jane wandered aimlessly around the booths on the merchant floor of the Mystery Writers Conference, pausing occasionally to pick up a book and read the back of it. When she'd been on the police force she hadn't had a lot of time for reading, but ever since moving in with Maura it had become a way of life. Maura was, of course, an avid reader as well as being a writer. Both activities involved sitting quietly for long periods of time during which Jane was expected to do the same. It had taken Jane some time to get acclimated to the idea of not falling asleep to the TV and reading a chapter of a book instead. At first she had trouble with it and would often get distracted by the sexy woman lying next to her. Many a place had been lost in books plucked out of Maura's hands and thrown across the room by Jane. It wasn't until after the third time it happened that Maura admitted she'd usually been thinking of doing the same thing anyway. Jane was just more forward about it.

As time went on Jane grew to like reading with Maura. It was a relaxing way to spend time, and there were a lot of great books out there with clever plots, gruesome murders, and nail-biting action. Of course there were still plenty of nights where she couldn't resist the allure of Dr. Isles, but now she always made sure to mark their places before tossing the books aside.

She was surprised to note that not all the books being sold at the conference were mysteries. Many other genres were represented, most notably romance. One particularly colorful table caught her eye and she paused to look at it. All at once she understood why there were rainbows all over this booth - the vendor was an LGBT publishing house.

Sitting behind the table was a man with a full, bushy beard and piercing blue eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice mild and friendly. "Can I help you find something?"

Waving her hand at the table, Jane asked, "These all gay books?"

The man laughed. "More or less. They either feature queer characters or are written by queer authors. That table there is romance. These ones down here are mysteries, although they usually also contain some degree of romance as well."

Jane wandered down to the mystery section, picking up one of the paperbacks and flipping through it. "Any of them any good? Not trying to brag but I tend to figure these things out pretty quick."

"I imagine you would," laughed the man, and Jane looked at him sharply. "I'm sorry. You're Jane Rizzoli, right?"

"Yeah," said Jane. "I guess the whole conference is buzzing about me and Maura, huh?"

"Well, yes, but also my girlfriend is interviewing Dr. Isles later today for her blog and she's been talking about you both nonstop."

There were so many things Jane could have said, but the first thing that popped out of her mouth was: "_Girlfriend?_" She could have sworn that this gentleman was a gay man, and not just because he was sitting behind the table of a gay publishing house. He was also soft-spoken in a way that was not typical of most heterosexual men.

"That's right. I'm Tim, by the way. Tim McGovern." He stretched his arm across the table and Jane shook it. "It's great to meet you."

"Likewise. So is this your publishing house?"

"No, I'm just helping out my girlfriend. Her name is Marisol Martinez. She's interviewing Dr. Isles after the forensic science panel today."

"Hmm," said Jane, putting her hands on her hips. "I thought she didn't have anything after that panel, not until dinner anyway."

With a sheepish smile, Tim said, "Marisol knows Charles Kline, her publicist. She specially requested an interview after… Well, after she showed up with you."

"Ah," said Jane, snapping her fingers. "Of course. Suddenly Maura's of interest to this company because she's dating a woman."

Tim winced. "It sounds so skeezy when you say it like that, but yes, the publishing house's blog exclusively features queer authors. If it makes us sound any better, we both read her book and _loved _it. In fact I have it right here." He dug around in a bag behind the counter and pulled out a well-worn copy of Maura's book. As he looked down at it, his eyes lit up. "Hey, wait, I just remembered..." He it flipped open to the dedication page, then turned it to face Jane. "This is you, right?"

"Guilty," said Jane shortly. Though she wasn't embarrassed about the dedication, she didn't exactly have any desire to discuss it with a stranger, either. She pointedly returned her attention to the table and began poking through the books again. "So if you don't actually work here, does that mean you don't know anything about these books?"

"Of course I do," responded Tim, returning his copy of Maura's book to his bag and instead picking up another book from the table. "This one is my favorite. I read a lot of mystery and I never saw the big twist coming."

"Great," said Jane, taking it from him and flipping it over to read the summary on the back. "Is it gay?"

"The main character is a lesbian, yes."

"Alright. I'll take it." Jane dug her wallet out of her back pocket and handed him a bill, still examining the book. "I've never read a book about a lesbian before."

If Tim thought that was strange he didn't say anything about it, and Jane appreciated that. Instead he said, "You're in for a treat. I think you'll be hooked."

"I think you're probably right. God knows I got hooked on other lesbian things," she replied drolly, and Tim laughed. Jane's cell phone buzzed and she pulled it off her belt clip and checked it. "I gotta get going. Thanks for the book. It was nice meeting you, Tim."

"You too, Jane."

Tucking the book in the bag slung over her shoulder, Jane headed back upstairs to where the main area of the conference center was. Up here were about a dozen large rooms where panels were being held about all sorts of different topics. Jane made her way to the room where Maura was waiting for her. It was empty except for a few other event insiders - the other panelists, their guests, and some crew members setting up audio and visual equipment. This was where the forensic science panel was being held. "Hi," said Maura when Jane joined her. She reached out and took Jane's hand, squeezing it lightly.

"Hey," replied Jane warmly, squeezing back. "How did your interviews go?"

"She was perfect," said a voice behind them, and they turned to greet Charles and his radiant grin. "She's the first client I've ever had who's never said anything stupid on the record."

"If there's one thing Maura is not, it's stupid," said Jane proudly. "This girl couldn't give a wrong answer if she tried."

Trying and failing to hide her flattered smile, Maura told her, "Charles lined up another interview for me right after the panel. It's with a blogger for Gleeful Books. They're an LGBT publishing house."

"I know," Jane said, pulling out the book she'd just bought. "I just met your interviewer's boyfriend downstairs. He sold me this."

Confused, Maura glanced at Charles. "I thought my interviewer was going to be a woman," she said.

"She is," Charles said.

"So she's not gay, then?"

Charles shrugged. "It's not really any of my business. Marisol and Tim have been dating for as long as I've known her, though. We met at Pride a couple of years ago and we've been friends ever since. You'll like her, Maura. She'll want to ask questions about Jane, but she'll also be respectful of anything you don't want to answer. I thought she'd be perfect for your coming out interview."

"Okay," said Maura with a sigh. She looked at Jane. "Will you sit in on that one with me? Technically it's about both of us so I think that would be appropriate."

"If Charles thinks it's a good idea, sure," said Jane, glancing over at him.

"I think it's a fantastic idea," he said with an approving nod. "In fact, let's pretend I thought of it, shall we?"

"Sure," laughed Maura.

"Gosh, Charles, you are so darn good at your job. How did we ever manage without you?" said Jane flatly.

"I have no idea," replied Charles arrogantly.

A staff member came over and timidly asserted his presence by clearing his throat. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but it's time for Dr. Isles to take her seat. We're about to start letting the guests in."

"Alright," said Maura. To Jane she said, "Wish me luck?"

Not caring about all the people lingering nearby, Jane leaned down and kissed her unhurriedly. "Good luck, Maura. You're going to be amazing. I'm so proud of you."

It made Maura feel dizzy. It bolstered her so much to hear that from Jane that all traces of nervousness left her in an instant. She kissed Jane back and said, "Thank you."

As Maura made her way up to the stage, Charles put his hand over his heart and collapsed into the nearest seat. "Oh my _fucking_ god," he said dramatically. "You two are so god damn cute I can't even deal with it."

Jane rolled her eyes and sat next to him, crossing her legs and arms. "Shut up," she muttered, blushing.

"I'm serious. You two are so solid. If that's not relationship goals then I don't know what is. What's your secret?"

"Be best friends for ten years before you start dating someone," said Jane, watching as the crowd shuffled in and began taking the seats around them. "And throw in a couple of life-or-death situations along the way. Those tend to make you feel really close to someone."

"Maura mentioned you guys had some brushes with danger. What was the scariest thing that you ever experienced?" Charles asked, wondering if he would even get an answer to this very intrusive question.

For a long time Jane said nothing. She sat there gazing at Maura up on the stage, who was listening to the panelist next to her with a polite smile on her lips. Her heart swelled with love, and she thought of the ring buried at the bottom of her bag. Eventually she said to Charles: "The scariest thing was when I told her how I felt for the first time. I've had guns pointed at my head, knives held against my throat, people I love have been threatened… But nothing is ever scarier than when I risk losing Maura. And at that time I was taking a huge risk. A necessary one but… I could have lost her for good. And that would have… I wouldn't have survived that."

Charles patted her arm reassuringly. "Risk paid off big time though, huh?"

"You have no idea," said Jane, the corners of her mouth lifting in a warm smile she couldn't contain.

"Oh, _god_," groaned Charles, fanning air on his face with his hand. "I think I'm gonna cry."

"Shut up," laughed Jane, pushing him away playfully. She was relieved when the head panelist stood to begin the discussion, effectively ending the uncomfortably personal conversation with Charles.

The panel proceeded easily, the audience listening with rapt attention to the experts on the stage. Jane admired the way Maura spoke easily and fluidly about complicated scientific subjects, wowing the spectators with her seemingly endless knowledge and incredible vocabulary. Several people sitting near Jane were even taking notes. Two gentlemen behind her were whispering to each other, and a few times she could make out what they were saying.

"Smart, sexy, successful, and an amazing writer," one of them said quietly. "She's the whole package. Seriously, look at those tits, man!" Jane bristled and fought against a powerful urge to turn around and punch him in the mouth.

But then the second man spoke. "Heard she's a lesbian, though," he said. "Apparently she's here with some lady cop."

"Damn. What a fucking waste," grumbled the first guy. "Guess she's off-limits, then. I'm not trying to get arrested."

Jane grinned. If her reputation as a cop was going to keep assholes from hitting on Maura, she'd never correct people about her profession change again.

Once the panel ended, Jane and Charles pushed their way against the flow of the crowd towards the stage until they found Maura chatting with a group of people who were peppering her with more questions. Jane placed her hand on the small of her back and leaned down to speak into her ear. "Come on, we gotta go meet this not-gay gay interviewer," she said quietly, and Maura held back a laugh.

Maura politely extracted herself from the gathered crowd, and Jane kept her hand where it was the entire time as they walked down the hall to a smaller room. This one was empty but for a single woman who was sitting alone at a round table. She was short, curvy and Latina, and she was shuffling through some papers as she waited. When Maura, Jane and Charles entered the room she stood and offered a wide, friendly smile. From the smile alone, Jane decided she liked this woman.

"Dr. Isles," the woman said, stepping forward and offering a hand, "I'm Marisol Martinez. I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure. Please, call me Maura. And this is my partner Jane Rizzoli."

As Jane shook hands with Marisol, she said, "Nice to meet you. Sorry to crash the interview."

"Not at all," Marisol said casually. "Considering the questions I have for Maura, I think it will only be better that you're here as well." They sat around the table and Marisol turned on a small digital recorder. She explained that her publishing house was LGBT-focused, and that because of this she was planning to ask some very personal questions. But, she assured them, she would respect their boundaries and they didn't have to answer anything they didn't feel like answering. Then she dove in with her questions. First she asked about Maura's career and training as a medical examiner, then she moved on to _Forensic Instinct_. She asked about its inception and its reception. These were all familiar questions to Maura and she answered them fluidly and easily. But then Marisol asked: "How has your identity as a queer woman informed your experience as a member of the law enforcement community?"

For the first time, Maura hesitated. "I don't know that that's an appropriate question to ask me," she said slowly.

"Oh," said Marisol, surprised. She'd thought that was a tame, simple question. "I'm sorry. We can move on."

"No, wait," said Maura hastily. "It's not what you think. It's just that… It's complicated because the truth is I didn't really _have_ an 'identity as a queer woman' until about a year and a half ago. So none of the formative moments of my career were influenced by something that, for all intents and purposes, didn't exist."

Marisol leaned forward in her chair, burning with curiosity. "Can you explain what you mean?"

"I mean up until quite recently, I identified as exclusively and enthusiastically heterosexual."

"And what happened recently to change that for you?"

"Jane happened. She was my best friend in the whole world for a decade, but then one day I realized that I wanted more from our relationship. And it turned out that Jane wanted that too. So quite suddenly we both found we were members of a community with which we'd never interacted before, aside from one particularly memorable undercover operation at a lesbian bar for work. And even then, Jane had more of an opportunity to interact with gay women than I did."

Snorting, Jane said, "Yeah, it was basically speed dating for lesbian murder suspects."

Raising an eyebrow, Marisol said, "Now, you can't say a thing like that and expect any self-respecting reporter not to ask for more. Would you mind telling the story? It would make a good topic for the article, especially since we can't go in the direction I originally intended."

"Sure," agreed Maura amicably, and together she and Jane told the story of the murder at Merch.

After the interview was finished, Marisol turned off the tape recorder and thanked them for their time. Then she said, "Listen, we're off the record now so let's talk woman to woman. I think your story is fascinating, especially since I sort of lived it in the opposite. I went my whole life thinking I was gay. I dated women exclusively from the time I was old enough to date. But then I met my boyfriend Tim and everything changed, and I've honestly never been happier. But the beautiful thing about the LGBT community is that we are accepting of everyone, and plenty of us believe it's possible to feel one way your entire life only to find yourself falling in love with someone you'd never expect. Sexuality is fluid. It's not a spectrum."

Maura already knew all this. She'd been voraciously reading every study she could find on the topic ever since she'd realized that she was in love with Jane. But it was still incredibly comforting to hear that someone else had lived through a similar experience.

"I met Tim," said Jane, draping her arm casually around Maura's shoulders. "He seems like a nice guy."

"He is," replied Marisol with a lovesick smile. "He's been a huge help this weekend, and he's only complained a tiny little bit. He runs an LGBT youth center downtown. Actually, if you two are looking for a way to engage with your new community, volunteering there would be a great way to start. I know we could always use the help. Here, I have a card." She dug around in her purse and handed Maura a business card. "Give us a call if you want to get involved. We'd love to have you."

The interview had run a little long, and Jane and Maura rushed back upstairs to change for the dinner and awards ceremony. As usual, Maura took a lot longer to get ready than Jane did. By the time Maura finished her makeup Jane was sitting on the couch in the den of the hotel room, idly scrolling through her phone as she waited. But when Maura came out of the bedroom, the phone fell from her fingers and her jaw dropped open. Maura's light blue evening gown was floor-length and hugged her curves in all the right places. Jane rose on shaking knees and walked over to her, running her eyes up and down and blinking rapidly. "My god, you're beautiful," she breathed. "I seriously can't believe how lucky I am."

Maura was doing some staring herself. Rather than a dress, Jane had worn a dapper-looking black pant suit that was perfectly tailored for her long body and included a thin tie and a matching pocket square. "Oh, it's safe to say that I'm the lucky one here," Maura replied. She reached up to run her hands along the lapels of Jane's suit jacket, straightening it out and making the lines neater. "I thought you said you were going to wear a dress."

"I wanted to surprise you. Do you like it?"

"That would be an extreme understatement. You look absolutely stunning, Jane."

"Thank you," replied Jane, an endearing blush on her cheeks. "I figured if we're gonna do this gay thing, we might as well do it right. Tonight, you're the femme and I'm the butch. Maybe next time we can swap." She smiled when Maura giggled.

"Sure. I'd like that."

"Cool. Although I gotta admit, I really like wearing this. It's a hell of a lot more comfortable than a dress."

Maura could tell that Jane liked the way she looked by the way she carried herself. She seemed relaxed and confident, and it made Maura woozy with desire. Draping her arms around Jane's shoulders, she brought her down for a long, indulgent kiss. "There are no words," she said softly in between kisses, "that can express how very much I love you."

"You don't need words," Jane assured her, cupping the side of her face. "Not when you kiss me like that."

A knock on the door made them both jump in surprise. Charles's voice floated in from the hallway: "You ladies better not be making out in there! We got places to be!"

They both laughed as they separated, but not before Jane stole one more quick peck. Then they opened the door and headed downstairs with Charles.

Even Jane, picky as she was, had to admit that dinner was delicious. And the champagne was even better, although she stopped after two glasses. She didn't want to be too drunk to appreciate the rest of the evening.

Because she wanted to remember this night for the rest of her life.

And Maura refrained from drinking too much, too, because the last thing she wanted was to make an ass of herself on stage. But the truth was that she wasn't nervous at all about what was about to happen. She had prepared a great speech, she looked fabulous, and Jane Rizzoli loved her. Jane looked so good tonight that it was hard to look anywhere else. Every time anyone came by to chat she introduced Jane with obvious pride. A few people seemed a little uncomfortable when confronted with the same-sex couple, but the vast majority of people didn't even bat an eye. Encouraged by the response, Maura leaned further into Jane as the night went on, at one point even daring to place a soft kiss on her cheek when looking at her simply wasn't enough anymore.

At last the time came for Maura to accept her award. When her introduction was read and she was invited to the stage, everyone in the room stood to applaud her. Before going up to the podium she gave Jane a quick but loving hug, and Jane said into her ear: "Knock 'em dead."

"I will," she replied. Then she turned and headed up the short steps and stood behind the podium. As the applause died down, Maura spoke in a strong, confident voice into the microphone. "Thank you so much. And thank you to the Minuteman Mystery Writers Society for this incredible honor.

"If someone had told me ten years ago that I'd be standing here today, I would be convinced that person was suffering a severe psychotic break and would probably call them an ambulance." She paused for a light chuckle from the crowd. "Allow me to elaborate on this theme a little, because it may help you understand where _Forensic Instinct _came from and why it is so close to my heart. Let's begin with a fun fact about Dr. Maura Isles: I cannot lie. I'm not being facetious. I have a serious physical aversion to lying. I hyperventilate, I break out into hives, and I have even been known to suffer a vasovagal episode.

"You may be wondering why this is relevant. Well, what is writing but a telling of an elaborate series of lies? We writers spin tales of people who don't exist, of circumstances that have never happened, of situations that have never occurred. I wrote five hundred pages of lies. And with my body's normal reaction to lying… Put simply, one might expect me to be giving this speech from a hospital bed." There was another break for laughter.

"So why, then, is it possible for me to be here tonight? The answer is really quite simple: Love. In opening my heart to love, I've learned that writing stories is a way to put onto the page the essence of truth. No, the exact crime in my novel has never occurred. But it is true to the horrific nature of crime. And the people in my novel don't exist, but they are a reflection of the things I feel and experience every day. That's why I could never have written this book ten years ago. I wasn't feeling my feelings honestly enough shape them into a form where I could retell them. That's why I owe this award to my family. To my mother, who has also recently come to see her own feelings for what they really are. To Hope, who helped me learn who I am. To Angela, who is the world's foremost expert on feeling feelings with honesty. To Tommy, Frankie and Nina, who are the siblings I never knew I desperately needed. And above all, to Jane. My Jane." She paused to draw in a deep, shaky breath. "Who looked at me, a cold, distant woman who was hiding from the world, and saw someone worth knowing. If I know anything at all about love, it is because of you, Jane.

"I hope everyone understands that when you read my novel, you are reading a piece of me. The story may not be true, but there's not a single lie on those pages. Thank you for reading my truth, and thank you again for this incredible honor you've given me tonight."

Another round of applause erupted as she left the stage, but she barely noticed. Instead she walked down the stairs and directly into Jane's arms, who hugged her tightly and placed several kisses on her forehead. They sat back down to enjoy the rest of the evening, but all Maura really wanted to do was go back to the hotel room with the most important person in her world.

Dinner was supposed to be followed by dancing and socializing, but by unspoken agreement they decided to skip all that. They bid goodnight to Charles and headed upstairs. The hotel room was dark but they didn't turn on any lights. "I'll open a bottle of wine. Meet you on the balcony?" Jane said, and Maura nodded before stepping outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind her.

She leaned against the railing, looking out onto the night-blanketed city and its twinkling lights in the darkness. It was beginning to grow chilly, but there was an impenetrable warmth in her belly that made it impossible for her to feel cold.

Hearing the sliding glass door open, she turned to greet Jane and accept her glass of wine. They stood beside each other on the balcony, close enough to enjoy each other's body heat.

"I hope I didn't get too personal in my speech," said Maura softly. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No," said Jane. "I thought it was perfect." She paused, reflecting on what Maura had said in her speech about the earliest days of their friendship. "I didn't have to look very hard, you know. To see the person you really are beneath your shell. I was drawn to you so quickly. And every time you would show me these little snippets of your personality, I wanted more. It was so easy to love you. And once I knew what was hiding behind that shield you'd built up, all I wanted was to bring you out of there, because you didn't need the shield as long as I was around. I wanted to be the one to protect you from all the things that had made you feel like you needed to close yourself off from the world."

"You are. You always have been."

"And if you'll let me, I always will be." She reached over and took Maura's wine glass from her hand, placing them both on the table nearby. Then she dropped down to one knee and took Maura's hands in her own. "Maura," she said, her voice thick and husky as she stared up at Maura with focused intensity. "I want to be by your side for everything that may come. I want to be your best friend, your support, your confidante, your proofreader… Your family. I want to be your partner and back you up whenever you need help. I know you can stand on your own two feet, but I want to be yours to lean on just in case. You're going to do such amazing things, and I want to be there for all of it, just like I've been there since the day we met. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Maura Isles, will you marry me?"

At first unable to vocalize her reply, Maura simply nodded repeatedly, tears streaming down her face. "Yes," she said finally, smiling wider than she'd ever smiled before.

"Yeah?" said Jane, her own smile breaking out and growing uncontrollably.

"Yes, Jane, of course I will."

Jane leapt to her feet and brought Maura in for a crushing hug, peppering jubilant kisses all over her face that ended with a deep, passionate one on her lips. "I love you so, so much," she said, openly sobbing with joy.

"I love you too," replied Maura, burying her face in Jane's neck and letting herself cry. "I didn't know it was possible to love anyone this much until I met you."

They hugged for a long time, and then Jane abruptly pulled away. "Shit!" she said, her eyes red from crying.

Alarmed, Maura said, "What?!"

"I forgot the ring!" She dug in her pocket and pulled out the ring she'd been staring at for the last year. "I can't believe what an idiot I am! How do you propose to the woman of your dreams and forget the damn _ring_?"

Maura broke out into hysterical laughter. "Jane, it's okay," she said through her mirth.

"No, it isn't, Maura! I've been obsessing over this ring for almost a year, and then the time finally comes to give it to you and I completely blow it."

"You didn't blow it. I still said yes, didn't I?"

Grinning, Jane said, "Yeah, you did." She kissed Maura again, then pulled away and took Maura's left hand in her own. Wordlessly she slid the ring onto Maura's finger, just as she'd wanted to do for so long. Her heart roared in her chest, and she felt at that moment as though she could have stepped off the balcony and flown off into the sky, and the only reason she didn't was because all she wanted was to stay as close to Maura as humanly possible.

"It's beautiful," whispered Maura.

"_You're_ beautiful," replied Jane, and then she lifted Maura up into her arms and carried her back inside.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we have any podcast fans in the house? I was listening to "My Dad Wrote A Porno" the other day and Jane Rizzoli pops up in a VERY hilarious way at the end of season one. If you're a fan of laughing, I highly recommend listening to the podcast. You won't regret it. I warn you though, it's raunchy. Also don't listen to it in public because you'll be cracking up and people will look at you funny.
> 
> Anyway. Enough about that. Here's a chapter!

The dark hotel room was quiet but for the sounds of late night traffic far below on the streets of Boston. The two women on the bed were quiet too, awake but simply absorbing each other's presence. Despite everything they'd been through, despite how close they already were, neither one of them could fail to notice the newfound depth of intimacy that accompanied the concrete knowledge that they could expect to have nights like this every night for the rest of their lives.

Maura held her left hand up in the air in front of her and looked at the ring resting snugly on her finger. She supposed Jane had taken one of her other rings to the jeweler as an example, because the fit was perfect. She still couldn't quite believe what had happened. After eleven years of knowing her, she was going to marry Jane Rizzoli. Giddy with joy, she dropped her hand back over Jane's stomach and buried her face in her neck, squeezing her lover tightly. She felt more than heard Jane's chuckle.

"What's going on in here?" that amazing, raspy voice asked, and she raised one hand to tap Maura's forehead.

"Nothing particularly interesting. I'm afraid you've managed to compromise my higher brain functions a little."

"Why, Dr. Isles, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"It's the truth. What were you thinking about?"

"Honestly, my brain's not much better than yours right now. It's basically a constant stream of _Maura Maura happy yay Maura_. Although to be fair, that's how it usually is."

Maura laughed and leaned in for a kiss which quickly deepened and became filled with intent. Lifting herself up, Maura luxuriated in the feeling of Jane's skin against hers as a warm, lazy arousal seeped through her. But just as she was beginning to get serious about her exploration of Jane's body, there was a loud vibration from the bedside table and both women jumped in surprise.

"Ignore it," breathed Jane, bringing Maura back in for another kiss.

"It could be important," said Maura, pulling away from Jane. "It'll just take a second to check."

"Who's phone was it?"

Leaning over both devices, Maura said, "Yours. It's a text from your mother."

Because there were no secrets between them, Jane asked, "Can you check it for me? I'm too comfy to move."

"Sure." Maura picked up the phone and read out the text exactly as it was written, even telling Jane how many question marks had been included: "Did u ask yet??? Wut did she say???"

"Oh my god," groaned Jane as Maura laughed. "I swear, no one in this family has any concept of the word _privacy_."

"How did she know you were planning to propose?"

"Tommy probably told her. He told Frankie, so I wouldn't put it past him to tell Ma, too. Here, give me the phone." She took the device from Maura and tapped out a quick reply: "Yes, and yes." Then she tossed the phone back on the table. "There. Now get over here."

Maura happily obliged, and this time they successfully ignored it when both of their phones announced a series of celebratory texts from every member of the Rizzoli clan.

The rest of the conference floated by in a happy haze, with Jane following Maura around and listening to the unusually chipper answers to the questions she received in her interviews. Neither one could resist catching each other's eye and grinning as the day wore on. Charles, of course, noticed the ring the instant they met up with him for breakfast, and he spent most of the day wiping moisture from the corners of his eyes as he stood beside Jane watching his client work her magic.

Finally it was time to go home. As they packed up their things, Jane looked around the fancy hotel room and sighed regretfully. Maura noticed it and raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "So many good memories in this place," Jane explained. "D'you think there's time for one last round of canoodling?"

Chuckling, Maura shook her head. "I agree that the place has a certain sentimental attachment, but we're cutting it close with checkout time already. Plus I really want to go home."

"Me too," admitted Jane. Then, after a moment: "Can we at least make out a little bit?"

For response, Maura crossed the room and granted her wish. "Compromise is the hallmark of every successful relationship," she said in a low, sultry voice as they kissed.

"Oh, is that why you agreed to kiss me? Because you wanted to maintain the health of our relationship?"

"No, I agreed because I wanted to 'canoodle.' I was trying to internally rationalize my ridiculous decision to turn you down."

"You could still take it back," murmured Jane, running her hand up Maura's body to cup a breast over her blouse.

"We can't," said Maura, and she stepped back out of Jane's reach, flustered and breathless. "Let's go home. And as soon as we get there, it's canoodle-o'clock."

Jane grinned, thinking that Maura was so adorable she could die. "Oh goodie. My favorite time of day."

They finished packing, loaded their things into the car, bid goodbye to Charles in the lobby, and headed out. Since it was a Sunday evening there was far less traffic and they made good time. The whole ride Maura stared at the ring on her finger and tried to contain the excitement that bubbled within her. It felt as though she was carrying around a bright torch in her chest and she could barely contain its light. All this energy had to go somewhere, and it was effectively translating itself into arousal. She really, really wanted Jane right _now_.

When they got to the house, she bounced on her heels as she waited for Jane to dig her keys out and unlock the door. As soon as it was unlocked, she pounced. Jane stumbled back into the closed door as Maura launched herself at her, kissing her with obvious intent. "You weren't kidding," gasped Jane, her arms automatically encircling Maura. "You really meant 'as soon as we get there.'"

"Of course I wasn't kidding. Open the door, Jane. I need to touch you and I don't think your mother would approve of me doing that on the front porch."

"Nope, she wouldn't," said Jane, and she hastily opened the door before kissing Maura again. Still attached at the lips, they stumbled into the house.

And then they froze as a wave of sound greeted them as many voices simultaneously yelled: "_Surprise!_" Then there was raucous laughter as Jane and Maura broke apart and stared at all the people in the house.

"Damn," said Nina, who was as doubled over as it was possible for her to be in her mirth. "We need to stop doing that to poor Jane."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Frankie.

"Never mind," interjected Jane quickly. "What the hell are you all doing in our house?"

Overcome with emotion, Angela ran over and threw her arms around her daughter. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married!" she sobbed into Jane's shoulder.

"Little?" said Tommy. "She's six feet tall, Ma."

"She'll always be little to me." She turned to Maura and drew her into a hug as well. "And you! You're like an angel sent from heaven just to bless the Rizzoli family. What did we ever do to deserve you, Maura Isles?"

"How long do you have?" replied Maura, hugging Angela back tightly. As much as she'd been on fire with wanting Jane, she'd happily settle for a Sunday dinner with the Rizzoli family instead. After all, there'd be plenty of time to make love to Jane later. Every night from now on, in fact, if she wanted.

Nina walked over and held her hand out to Maura. "Let's see the ring," she demanded.

The evening proceeded as every Sunday dinner did, and Jane and Maura filled the rest of the family in on the proposal and all the other events of the weekend. "It was very traditional and tasteful," Maura told them. "She just got down on one knee and asked."

"Where were you?" asked Angela, listening raptly with tears in her eyes.

"On the balcony of our hotel room. It was nighttime and the whole city was lit up. It was perfect."

"Except I forgot the ring," added Jane, annoyed.

"She did forget the ring," agreed Maura cheerfully. "But she remembered it right after."

Frankie looked surprised. "It's very unlike you to forget something that important, Jane," he observed.

"Yeah, well, I was nervous, damn it," she grumbled. "Shut up."

"It doesn't matter," said Maura. "It was perfect anyway."

"I'll tell you what was perfect. Maura's acceptance speech," said Jane in an attempt to steer the conversation away from this personal topic. "You all got a shout out, by the way."

"We did? I wanna see!" said Tommy from the kitchen. Ever since Maura had taught him how to cook he had become their primary chef, a job he accepted with relish. He was even wearing the FBI apron that Jane had given him when she'd first come back from Virginia.

"I'm sure it will be posted online," Maura assured him. "I'll let you know when I have it."

As he munched on some potato chips, Frankie asked, "So how's it feel now that the whole world knows you're lesbians?"

"We're not lesbians," said Jane. "We're just in a lesbian relationship."

"Personally, I don't really see the difference," Frankie said. "You're two women who are together. That kinda makes you lesbians, doesn't it?"

Both Maura and Jane opened their mouths to reply, but Nina got there first. "A relationship doesn't define someone's sexuality, Frankie," she said. "Do you think bisexuals aren't still bisexual once they have a partner? It's not that simple."

"Yes," said Jane, pointing at Nina.

"Precisely," said Maura at the same time. "Frankie, you know that both Jane and I have had male partners. Just because we're together now, it doesn't change the fact that there have also been important men in our lives."

"Okay, fine. So you're bisexual, then?" said Frankie.

Again, Maura and Jane were saved from answering when Tommy chimed in: "First of all, that's none of your damn business. Second of all, who gives a shit? Isn't it enough that they're happy?"

"Yes," said Angela, reaching over to put her hand on Jane's arm. "That's enough. Isn't it, Frankie?" she added pointedly at her oldest son.

Looking unsatisfied, Frankie muttered, "Yeah."

But later on, once the group had separated into different conversations, Jane asked Frankie in a low voice, "So what's your point, anyway? Why do you care so much what label we put on ourselves?"

"Janie, I don't care about the label," he said. "I'm just trying to understand. Are you really telling me that Maura is the _only_ girl you ever thought about that way before? I've never heard of anything like that happening."

"It happens, apparently," said Jane. "We met someone this weekend who said she only dated women until she met this guy, and now she's dating a guy all of a sudden. Look, I get why you're confused. If you think you're having a hard time getting it, imagine how I felt when I realized what was happening. I'm telling you, I've never been so confused in my life."

"Okay, well what about Maura, then? She seems like she… I mean, she's more open about her sexuality. She's never been with a girl before either?"

"No," replied Jane. "She hasn't."

"You sure about that?"

Glaring at him, Jane said sharply, "Frankie, it's _Maura_. I would know, alright?"

Raising his hands in surrender, Frankie said, "Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know you didn't." Jane thought about the book she'd bought at the convention, and about how Marisol had said that the LGBT community would be accepting of them despite the fact that they'd always been with men before now. "There's more to it, too, Frankie. All of a sudden we're getting lumped in to a group that we never ran with before. All these gay people want to talk to us now where before we wouldn't have been interesting to them at all. It's weird, man. It's just a weird feeling."

Frankie was quiet for a moment, looking over at his very pregnant wife. Then he said: "You know I'm the first white guy Nina's ever been with?"

"Yeah?" said Jane, sipping from her beer.

"Yeah. I know it's not the same thing, but I do get the culture shock part. But I love her family, and they're definitely not all that different from ours. She's got a big family, and they're loud, loving, sometimes a little harsh - just like us, right? And you know what, I'm glad my kid's gonna get to experience that diversity. I think it's good. It's changed me a lot, that's for sure. It's changed the way I look at race, and about the world in general. It's even changed the way I do my police work. And I think the same thing could happen for you if you really embrace this gay thing."

Jane snorted. "Alright, sure. I'll be marching at the head of the Pride parade next year," she said sarcastically.

"Maybe you should," countered Frankie. "Even if you don't wanna label yourself a lesbian, that's what people are gonna see in you for as long as you're with Maura. And since you're gonna marry her, at some point you're gonna have to make your peace with that."

Rather than answer right away, Jane took another long pull from her bottle. Across the room, Maura had her hand on Nina's stomach, laughing with delight when she felt the baby kicking against her palm. Sighing, Jane said, "We don't belong there, Frankie. If people wanna call me a lesbian, that's fine. I can handle that. But I don't think it makes a lot of sense for us to steep ourselves in the gay world. There's no place for us there. We don't fit in."

Rolling his eyes, Frankie said, "Jane, you're ridiculous." Then he stood and walked away, joining Angela and TJ on the couch to watch the baseball game on TV.

Just as he sat down, however, his cell phone vibrated. A second later, so did Maura's. "Rizzoli," said Frankie when he answered his phone.

"Isles," said Maura when she answered hers. They both rose and shot apologetic looks at their family as they listened to the details. Once they had hung up, Maura walked over to Jane and sighed sadly. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Jane assured her. "Go on. I'll keep the bed warm for you." She winked suggestively.

"Please do." She raised up on her toes and kissed her goodbye before she and Frankie left the house together. As they both got into his car, she reflected on how much her attitude towards her job had changed since Jane had left. Working with Frankie and Nina was nice, but things were so different now. For the first time in her career, she found herself resenting the interruptions that could come at any moment. And she knew exactly why she felt that way: It was because she had a life outside of work now. She had something to miss out on while she was away working.

The crime scene was gruesome and bloody and quite obviously a homicide. She went through the motions of her job with methodical efficiency, unloading a huge amount of information on to the detectives in a short amount of time. Then she expertly coordinated the retrieval of the body and all the other evidence at the scene. No one could have done the work any quicker than she did, and it still took her several hours.

It was so late when she got home that Jane had already gone to bed. Disappointed, she went about her nightly routines and joined her. The motion of Maura climbing into bed woke Jane despite her best efforts not to do so. "Murder?" Jane asked sleepily.

"Yes," said Maura. "But easily solvable, I think. The killer was too sloppy to have not left something behind."

"Crime of passion, maybe," said Jane as she rolled over and pulled Maura into her arms.

"Could be." Maura burrowed into Jane's warmth, exhausted and glad to be home. "Go back to sleep, Jane. We can talk about it in the morning."

"Okay," sighed Jane, and within seconds she had drifted off again.

But the next morning Maura got yet another call that woke them both from slumber. Maura was beyond frustrated. All she wanted to do was spend time with Jane, but the city of Boston seemed dead set against it. "Let's go on a date tonight," she suggested impulsively as she dressed to head out to the crime scene.

"A date? Maura, I think we're a little past that part, don't you?"

"Dating never stops, Jane, and if we're going to get married then I think it's important for you to understand that. I am a high class woman and I expect to be treated as such. So tonight you're going to take me out somewhere whether you like it or not." Maura slung her purse over her shoulder and scowled at Jane, who was still in bed watching her.

"Damn, woman," said Jane with a grin. "You're terrifying. Fine. I wouldn't want to get on my fiancée's bad side, now would I?"

It was the first time Jane had called her that, and Maura felt her heart flutter at the title. "No, you wouldn't. So I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Bye." Jane watched her leave, wishing she could fast forward the day to get to her promised quality time with the love of her life.

Despite Maura's claims of being a high class woman, Jane didn't plan anything fancy or elaborate for their date. Instead she brought Maura to restaurant with outdoor seating so they could enjoy the fine spring weather. It seemed like winter was finally over, and the streets were filled with people enjoying the first warm evening in months. As they ate their meal they watched people passing by, overhearing snippets of their conversations even as they carried their own. Jane filled Maura in on what Frankie had said to her the day before about how he was having a hard time understanding their relationship.

"It's been over a year already," said Maura, surprised. "He's still having difficulty with it?"

"Not with accepting it, but I think he's grasping to figure out our place in the world. Which, you know, is not even remotely his job, but he's a guy and that's what guys do. Everything has to fit into these neat little boxes, I guess."

"It's not only guys who do that, Jane. My mind is rife with boxes. It helps with memory function. If you imagine your mind as a house, you can put different tidbits of information in different rooms so that you always know where to find what you're looking for."

"I tried that," said Jane, "but then my mind-house got infested with mind-mice and chewed open a bunch of mind-boxes and I had to throw them out. Now I completely forget algebra."

"That's too bad," laughed Maura. "Should have got a mind-house cat."

Jane laughed too, and then the waitress interrupted them to bring her a second beer. She picked it up and sipped it, studying Maura thoughtfully over the rim of the pint glass. "Frankie wanted to know if you'd been with other women before me," she said.

"I haven't. You know that."

"I do, and I told him so. But I'm wondering something about you, and I want you to be completely honest, okay?"

"Okay."

Jane set her glass down and leaned across the table to peer at her intently. "Am I _really_ the only woman you've ever been _interested_ in?"

"I find lots of people interesting, Jane," said Maura informatively.

"Maura," Jane said, frustrated. "That's not what I meant."

"You mean _romantically_ interested?"

"Yeah. Like, there's really never been any other woman you wanted to… You know."

"Sleep with?"

"Yes. That."

Shrugging, Maura said, "No."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You sure about that? You checked your mind-attic and your mind-basement?"

"I would think that information would be stored in the mind-closet, don't you?"

Grinning appreciatively, Jane said, "Nice, Maur."

"Thank you. But I'm quite certain that there's never been anyone else. I was waiting for you, I suppose."

Jane reached across the table and tapped the tip of Maura's nose. "Cutie." They smiled at each other for a moment before Jane cleared her throat and forced herself to re-focus on the topic at hand. "Well, for the record, you're my first, too. Which makes me have a better understanding of why Frankie is so confused. It is pretty unusual when you think about it."

"It is," Maura agreed. "But maybe now that we know how good it can be with a woman, we might suddenly find ourselves attracted to other women, as well."

"What, like we unleashed some lesbian beast?" said Jane skeptically, and Maura laughed.

"Maybe. Let's try it. Take a look at our waitress. She's attractive, don't you think?"

They both turned to watch their waitress as she stood at a nearby table taking other diners' orders. "I guess she's pretty, yeah," said Jane reluctantly.

"Would you sleep with her?"

Jane stared at Maura as though she'd grown another head. "Seriously?"

"Yes! I want to know if you think she's sexy."

"Do _you_?"

Maura considered the waitress for another moment, then answered: "No, not particularly."

"Me either."

Now directing her attention to the throngs of people out on the streets, Maura said, "Maybe she's just not our type. Do you see the woman across the street talking on her cell phone?"

Spotting the woman in question, Jane looked at her and made a conscious effort to imagine what she might look like naked. Instead of arousal, Jane felt only embarrassment and a little guilt over doing so. It felt like a betrayal of Maura to think about anyone else that way, even though Maura was specifically asking her to do it. She picked up her beer and took a large swallow. "This is officially the weirdest date I've ever been on," she said.

"I'm not attracted to her either," Maura said. She knew Jane so well that she could practically hear exactly what she was thinking. Under the table, she placed her hand on Jane's knee and squeezed. "Ultimately I must conclude that I don't want to be with anyone but you - male or female."

"Right there with ya," replied Jane, laying her hand over top of Maura's.

They finished their meal and headed home. In the car Jane remembered the rest of her conversation with Frankie at Sunday dinner about being a member of the gay community. Even though they had mutually determined that they were not generally same-sex oriented, the fact remained that Jane was wildly and unreasonably attracted to Maura, and vice versa. And because of that, they were forever going to be in a same-sex relationship.

So, in the grand scheme of things, where did that leave them?


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the category of reviewer who I like to think of as "The Naggers." These are readers who leave comments asking for an update, no matter how old a story is. You guys are doing the lord's work, and without you this chapter would not exist. Behind every great fanfic author, there are 50 readers urging them to continue. Thank you for all your efforts. This one's for you.

The bell that Tommy had hung above the front door tinkled in the other room, and Jane glanced at her watch in annoyance. “About fucking time,” grumbled Tommy from his desk. “Does this guy think he’s got the only case in Boston?”

“Be cool,” hissed Jane as she stood and went to greet their new potential client, who was almost forty-five minutes late for his appointment. He was a short, stocky man, clean-shaven and wearing a rather expensive-looking suit. In his right hand he held an equally high-quality briefcase. “Winslow Goodwin?” she asked him. When he nodded, she offered her hand to shake. “I’m Jane Rizzoli.”

Hesitantly, Winslow reached out and shook her hand. Jane pretended not to notice his reticence, but mentally catalogued it as one more reason to dislike this guy. “Nice to meet you,” he said, and Jane could detect a hint of a southern drawl in his voice. “I hope your work is as good as your reputation promises.”

“Guess you’re about to find out, huh?” said Jane dryly. “Follow me.” She led him into the office where Tommy was still seated behind his desk, leaning back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest as he sized the visitor up. Jane felt a rush of affection for him; at that moment he looked every bit like the private investigator he was. “My brother Tommy,” Jane said to Winslow. “He’ll be helping with the legwork.”

Now Tommy stood and offered his hand, and Winslow, looking relieved, shook it at once. “Good, good,” said Winslow brusquely. “Glad to hear it.”

The Rizzoli family were a perceptive bunch, and Tommy immediately picked up on his implicit bias against Jane. “Oh, I’m just the muscle,” Tommy said. “It’s Jane’s gig. Really, I hardly do anything at all.”

Jane had to quickly turn away to hide her smirk from Winslow. God, did she ever love her brother. For that, she would take the next boring overnight stake-out herself. 

“Well, since we’re getting such a late start I think we’d better get right down to it,” Jane said, unable to resist the passive-aggressive dig. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell us what brings you here?”

Tommy and Jane both perched on the edge of Jane’s desk, facing the seated Winslow. It was a slightly intimidating setting for the potential client, which was intentional on Jane and Tommy’s part. The last thing they wanted was for a client to lie to them. If they were going to do the best possible investigation, they needed facts, not fancy. They couldn’t appear to be friendly or accommodating to the people who wanted to hire them. They needed to present a firm, strong front to get across the idea that they were tough, no-nonsense professionals. Clients needed to know that their time was valuable, and they would not tolerate wasting any of it.

Squirming slightly in his chair, Winslow cleared his throat and began: “I’d like you to find my little sister. Her name is Amanda Goodwin. She’d be 37 years old now, but no one in my family has seen her for ten years. She went missing in November of 2010.”

“She’s been gone ten years and you’re only just now looking for her?” asked Jane.

“I’ve actually been looking for her for nearly a year now, ever since our father died. But we’re from Kentucky and the PI I hired down there couldn’t turn up a damn thing. It’s highly unlikely she’s anywhere down south, because my guy would have dug her up.”

“Speaking of ‘dug her up,’” cut in Jane, “how do you know she’s even alive?”

Winslow didn’t meet their eyes as he replied, “Because she collected her inheritance. Our family attorney was able to contact her. He’s an old friend of my father’s. He always had a good relationship with her. But he refuses to share her whereabouts. He claims attorney-client privilege precludes him from disclosing that information.”

Reaching behind her for a notebook and pen, Jane said, “What’s the attorney’s name?” 

“Harvy Steinbaum,” answered Winslow. “Practices in Lexington. Good luck getting anything out of him, though. He’s a real miser.”

Jane looked at him sharply, trying to determine if the use of the derogatory term “miser” might have anything to do with the fact that this Steinbaum, judging by his last name, was almost certainly Jewish. She was starting to get a pretty clear picture of what kind of man Winslow Goodwin was.

“We’ll try our luck,” was all she said on that topic as she jotted the lawyer’s information down. “What makes you think your sister might be here in Boston?”

“Because she went to college here. She graduated from Harvard. I know she loved the city. She always said those were the best years of her life.”

“Okay. Well, I’m guessing you already tried all the easy stuff - Google, public records, et cetera,” Jane said.

With a slight roll of his eyes, Winslow said, “Of course. Do I look stupid to you?”

“Looks can be deceiving,” muttered Tommy under his breath.

“Excuse me?” said Winslow, appalled.

But Jane cut in quickly: “Mr. Goodwin, we’ll need any information you have about your sister - photographs, correspondence, work history, a list of acquaintances, that sort of thing.”

Still glaring at Tommy, Goodwin picked up his briefcase and opened it on his lap. From it he removed a manilla folder. “I figured as much. The PI back home wanted the same thing. This is everything I have,” he said, handing the folder to Jane. “So you’ll take the case?”

Jane made a mildly noncommittal noise as she flipped open the folder, Tommy leaning closer to watch over her shoulder. There was definitely some useful information there - old, already-opened mail addressed to Amanda Goodwin, old report cards showing Amanda’s stellar grades, and many photographs, although they all appeared to be somewhat dated. Most showed Amanda in formal wear throughout the years with her obviously well-to-do family, but there were a few candid shots as well. From the pictures Jane could tell she was a formidable athlete, as there were many shots of her in a soccer uniform, and there was also a cutout from a news article about her high school soccer team coming in first place in their league. The article featured Amanda prominently in the accompanying photograph, dribbling the ball down the field with several members of the opposing team pursuing hot on her heels.

One photograph in particular caught Jane’s eye. In it, Amanda was seated on a bench at the side of the soccer field with a few of her teammates, and her arm was slung around the shoulders of the girl sitting beside her. And, Jane noticed, the other girl had her hand on Amanda’s knee. Both girls were laughing and beaming.

Something clicked in Jane’s mind, and she understood that she was experiencing the phenomenon known as _ gaydar_. 

Returning her attention to Winslow, she said, “Mr. Goodwin, have you ever considered the possibility that your sister might not _ want _ to be found?”

“Does that matter?” he replied.

“To some people it might.”

Tommy spoke up for the first time to ask perhaps the most astute question that could possibly have been asked: “Why do you want to find her?” He glanced over at Jane who gave him a barely-perceptible nod of approval.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Winslow answered, “She’s my sister. Do I need another reason?”

“No,” said Jane, “but you have one.”

Unexpectedly, Goodwin rose to his feet. “I don’t think I have to answer your questions. Are you taking the case or not?”

“We need all the information possible, Mr. Goodwin. Otherwise our jobs are needlessly difficult,” said Jane.

“I’ll pay you an extra thousand,” he responded shortly. 

Jane considered the offer. On the one hand, she found herself intensely curious about what was going on here, and she had a strong suspicion that Winslow Goodwin wasn’t doing this out of brotherly love for his absent sister. But on the other hand, weddings were expensive. Plus the information they already had was probably sufficient. If Amanda Goodwin was in Boston, Jane was confident they could find her. Besides, it wasn’t Jane's job to be the morality police. She was a private investigator, not a cop. While Winslow’s motives might be suspect, she doubted they were criminal.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll take the case.” As an afterthought, she decided to test a theory by adding: “After all, my girlfriend and I could certainly use the money for our upcoming wedding.”

The look of disgust that came over Winslow’s face was so dramatic that Tommy had to quickly push away from Jane’s desk and pretend to be looking for something in a nearby filing cabinet to hide his stifled laughter.

“You’re…” stammered Winslow, but he was overcome with his revulsion and couldn’t finish the thought.

“Gay? A lesbian? A big old rug-muncher?” Jane finished helpfully. “That’s right. Still wanna do business with me?”

For a moment, Jane really thought he was going to back out. But finally he reached into an inside pocket and produced an envelope. Then he turned and handed it to Tommy. “Your deposit,” he said before turning and leaving the office without another word.

Jane and Tommy collapsed into laughter. “The fuck was that, Janie?” wheezed Tommy. “I know you and Maura are all public now, but why would you risk a fat paycheck with a stunt like that?”

Wiping tears of mirth from the corners of her eye, Jane pulled out the picture of Amanda and her soccer teammate and passed it to Tommy. “You ever heard of gaydar?” she said. “Because I know I’m new at this whole lesbian thing, but I’m getting a reading off this girl.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow and looked at the picture appraisingly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “You might be right. Damn! Seems like all the hot ones are going gay these days.”

“Wouldn’t you, if you were a woman?”

“Absolutely.”

“The only down side of being gay,” said Jane, taking the photo back, “is people like Winslow Goodwin. So I’m thinking maybe Amanda knows she likes girls, then comes to Boston for college and gets to experience what it’s like to live away from home where no family is gonna be there judging her and putting pressure on her to be ‘normal.’ After college she goes back to Kentucky and back into the closet. Until…” She opened the folder and fished out one of the pieces of mail that had been included. It was a fancy-looking invitation to an event with a Harvard letterhead. “Her five-year college reunion. Goodwin says she went missing in November of 2010. This reunion happened in June of 2010. So I’m thinking she comes back to Boston for a visit, remembers what it was like, and a few months later decides she wants to come here and stay for good.”

“It makes sense, but the only thing I don’t get is why she felt like she had to vanish completely,” said Tommy. “If her whole family is as closed-minded as big brother, wouldn’t coming out as gay be enough to sever ties?”

“Hmm,” hummed Jane. “Good point.” Her phone buzzed to alert her of an incoming text message, and she picked it up off her desk to check it. “Uh oh. Maura wants me to come home. Says she’s got something to show me.”

“A good something or a bad something?”

“I’m not sure,” Jane said as she began gathering her things. “But if it’s enough for her to ask me to come home, my guess is it’s probably bad. You good to lock up?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy assured her.

“Thanks bro. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, I know.”

When Jane got home fifteen minutes later, she called out “Maura?”

“In here,” came Maura’s reply, and Jane followed her voice to Maura’s home office to find her sitting in front of her computer. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course, Maur. What’s wrong?” She approached Maura and put her hand on her shoulder, bending down to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“My speech is up on YouTube. Look at this!” She pointed to the screen and Jane leaned closer. “Thirty thousand views, Jane! Thirty thousand views in less than 24 hours!”

“Holy shit, are you serious?”

“Look at these comments. ‘_Thank you so much for being so open. This is a very brave thing to do._' ‘_She is such an inspiration._’ ‘_I am obsessed with Dr. Isles._’ ‘_Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli must be the hottest couple in the whole world.’_”

“Well, I’ve been sayin’ that since the very beginning,” said Jane, smirking.

“There are lots of bad ones, too,” continued Maura, scrolling further down. “Some people seem to think I’m trying to pull a publicity stunt. They seem to think I'm too physically attractive to be a homosexual, although personally I fail to see what the connection is between those two attributes. This one here says that they regret buying my book. And this one says I’m living in sin and I will burn in hell for it.”

Sighing, Jane reached over and put her hand over Maura’s on the computer mouse. “Okay, that’s enough.” She guided the mouse over to the top of the screen and closed the window for the internet browser. “You don’t need to be reading those, alright? Let Charles handle that kind of thing, and he can give you the Cliffsnotes.”

Letting Jane pull her to her feet and into her arms, Maura burrowed her face in Jane’s shoulder and breathed in her familiar, comforting scent. “I knew not everyone would be supportive. I _ knew _ that. And yet for some reason the negativity is really getting to me.” She leaned back and took in Jane’s expression, drinking in the understanding and unconditional support she found there. “I love you so much. And I don’t want to have to go through life pretending that I don’t. Why would anyone find fault in something as wonderful and _ pure _ as these feelings I have for you?”

“I don’t know,” replied Jane, thinking of Amanda Goodwin and her family. “But I think that’s why it gets to you so bad. What you and I have is personal and private, but because it’s not the norm we have to put it out on display and say, ‘Here’s what’s in our hearts.’ And everyone else gets to see this incredibly personal thing about us and comment on it. It’s like we’re inviting everyone into our lives. Luckily, though, there’s an easy fix.”

“What’s that?”

Jane looked around the room in an exaggerated way, then looked back at Maura. “Check it out,” she said. “We’re alone. It’s just you and me here. Other people might think they know us, but they don’t. And whatever they want to say about us doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we love each other. _ We _ have this thing, Maura. Just us.”

Rather than answer, Maura simply tightened her arms around Jane and laid her head back down on Jane’s shoulder, and for a long time they stood there doing nothing but enjoying being together.

When they finally went downstairs to make dinner, Jane filled Maura in on the Goodwin case. After she had finished Maura asked, “What was this man’s name again?”

“Winslow Goodwin. He said he was from Lexington, Kentucky. The guy’s got old money written all over him.”

“If he is who I think he is, then he’s probably got old money written all over him, his car, his house, and his private jet. The Goodwin family in Kentucky are rich from before the establishment of the United State of America. They’re practically American royalty.”

“No shit?”

“None at all,” said Maura, amused. She had just finished uncorking a bottle of wine and was now pouring them both a glass. 

Jane sipped her wine as she considered this. “Winslow mentioned their father died about a year ago. Amanda probably stood to inherit a pretty penny, huh?”

“Several million pretty pennies,” agreed Maura.

“How much money, do you think?”

“Really, Jane. Still trying to get me to guess after all these years?”

“Come on,” groaned Jane. “Just give me a rough estimate. The roughest of rough.” When Maura smiled and shook her head, Jane prompted: “One million?”

“Higher,” said Maura.

“Five million?”

Maura quirked an eyebrow.

“Ten million?”

With a defeated sigh, Maura said, “I do not think it would be an exaggeration to say that fifty million is a conservative estimate.”

“Holy _ shit_! Fifty million dollars?!”

Maura turned and opened the fridge. “Do you want to do salmon or chicken tonight?”

“I bet Winslow is after that money somehow,” mused Jane. “That is way too much money for an asshole like him to let disappear into the ether.” She took out her phone and fired off a quick text to Tommy to let him know about the inheritance. Then she turned her phone off, ready to stop thinking about work and focus her full attention on Maura for the rest of the evening. “Chicken,” she said.

After they had eaten, they cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. As they were trying to find one they could agree on, Maura suddenly announced: “I want to volunteer at that LGBT youth shelter that Marisol Martinez told us about at the convention. Will you come with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jane, smiling at her. “What brought that on?”

“Your case. The comments on the video. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we are a part of a larger community now. Maybe getting involved with it will help me build up the mental fortitude required to be able to let the negativity roll off me the same way it does for you.”

“My little pep talk wasn’t good enough, huh?”

“Your pep talk was perfect,” Maura said, and she leaned over and gave her a brief but heartfelt kiss. “With you by my side I can deal with anything people say about me, or about us. The problem is that you can’t always be there to be my shield. I need to be able to give _ myself _ those pep talks.”

“Fair enough,” said Jane. “_Die Hard_.”

“Excuse me?”

Pointing at the screen, Jane repeated, “_Die Hard. _ Ever seen it?”

“Does anything explode?”

“No,” lied Jane.

Maura laughed. “Jane, there’s an explosion on the thumbnail. I don’t want to watch a movie where something explodes. How about _ Notting Hill_?”

“I thought you didn’t want any explosions.”

“There aren’t any!”

“There will be, because if I have to watch that movie my head will explode,” deadpanned Jane.

With another laugh, Maura adjusted her position so that she was straddling Jane’s lap, her arms resting on Jane’s shoulders. “You know what?” she said before leaning in for a slow, sultry kiss. “On second thought, let’s skip the movie, shall we?”

Grinning, Jane said, “Alright.” She put her mouth right next to Maura’s ear and breathed: “But I guarantee, there are still gonna be explosions.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, here it comes. I apologize in advance for the hack job I did with feminist history in this chapter. Believe it or not, I was a women's studies major in college approximately 983498435 years ago, so it was fun to try and dig this stuff up out of the shadowy corners of my mind. I'm not sure I quite nailed it, but I promise everything I wrote, I wrote with the utmost love and respect in my heart.

“I really appreciate your assistance with this, Hope,” said Maura as she finished unpacking the last of the cotton swabs and placed them into the glass jar on the tray of assorted medical supplies. “It means a lot to us.”

Hope waved the comment away. “Of course, Maura. I think this was a wonderful idea. It’s good for you and Jane to get involved with this organization. I believe it will be very helpful for you, both in the long and the short term.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” responded Maura. “We’d like to try and make an effort to… _ Fit in_, as it were. Logically I know that my relationship with Jane means that I can’t technically define myself as ‘heterosexual’ any more, but I admit I’m having a bit of trouble with it. I mean, I can't call myself a lesbian because I've always been attracted to men, and bisexual doesn't feel right either, given that Jane is the only woman I've ever cared for this way.” She hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. Though she and Jane had discussed this issue before, Maura still hadn’t been able to identify or explain the unrest that settled in her stomach whenever she thought about it. Her new working theory was that Jane was too close to the issue to really be able to assist with it, which was perhaps best evidenced by the fact that they had both been naked and lying in bed together when they discussed it. So instead, she thought she would try talking to the only person other than Jane who she knew could understand the way her mind worked - Hope Martin.

When she and Jane had decided to volunteer at the Rainbow Way Youth Center, she had reached out to Marisol Martinez, who had then directed her to her boyfriend Tim McGovern. Tim had been overjoyed when Maura offered to perform basic medical services free of charge, and Maura had enlisted Hope’s help to set up the makeshift mobile clinic. Now they were putting the finishing touches on their setup, and Maura looked around nervously to check that everything was organized and sanitary, too bashful to meet Hope’s eyes as she brought up the topic for which she very much needed Hope’s input.

“I find that to be understandable,” Hope said, equally as nervous to be having such a personal conversation with Maura. Though a part of her longed to have a maternal relationship with her daughter, she doubted she would ever feel comfortable enough to be as warm and open with her as, say, Angela Rizzoli was. But she knew there were things she could offer Maura that Angela never could. They shared a biological imperative to be clinical and scientific, and in that way Hope knew that Maura was more like her than anyone else in the world. And so, she squared her shoulders and dove into the conversation, doing her best to set aside her inclination to be detached. “Are you familiar with the historical wave model of feminist discourse?”

Puzzled about the sudden turn in the conversation, Maura said, “Yes, I suppose. In terms of American feminism, the first wave is considered to be the suffragette movement in the 1920s, then the second wave was the women’s liberation movement in the 1960s after the end of the second world war.”

“And the third wave,” said Hope, “began in the 1990s. This was a particularly interesting movement, because it’s typically defined by its inability to be defined. You see, second wave feminists asserted that there are no legitimate ways to separate out one societal construct from another. A woman doesn’t simply exist as a woman. She exists as all the various aspects of her identity all at the same time. I, for example, exist as a white woman, a heterosexual woman, a middle-class woman, et cetera. And all of those identities inform and influence one another. This is the basic idea of what they called ‘intersectionality.’ But third wave feminists believe that those identities are, at their core, complete nonsense. These are all imagined roles being enforced upon us by the society we live in. The truth is, no one is any one thing, and we as human beings cannot be neatly separated into organized boxes. Even something as basic as _ gender _ is meaningless, as it is merely a set of actions we perform and have arbitrarily described as either ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine.’ Third wave feminists seek to tear down all those constructs. They believe that our world is far more, for lack of a better term, _ messy._”

Frowning, Maura said, “I don’t like messy.”

Hope laughed. “Neither do I, to be perfectly honest. But it can be very liberating. And you, Maura, are living proof that things aren’t always that simple. What I hope you gain from the experience of working with Rainbow Way is a deeper understanding not just of your own identity, but of humanity as a whole. All I am trying to say is that it is meaningless to attempt to describe yourself in terms of your sexual orientation, because some might say that sexual orientation is a myth. The important thing is to be true to yourself. And in your case, being true to yourself means that you belong with Jane Rizzoli, who just so happens to be a woman.”

Maura sat down heavily on the medical bed Hope had brought to the youth center from her clinic, her mind racing. Could it really be that easy? All this time she had been having so much trouble trying to figure out how to label herself, but what Hope was trying to tell her was that the labels themselves were, as Jane might say, “bullshit.” 

There came a light knock on the door frame, and Tim McGovern stuck his thickly-bearded head into the room. “How are we doing in here?” he asked.

“Very well, thank you,” said Hope. “We’re just about ready to start taking patients.”

“Great! This looks amazing. I really can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

Recovering from her momentary lapse in focus, Maura stood and smiled at him. “It’s our pleasure. How is Jane doing with her task?”

“If you have a minute, you’re welcome to come and see for yourself,” offered Tim.

“Would you mind?” Maura asked Hope.

“Not at all,” replied Hope sincerely. “I can finish the rest of this myself.”

“Thank you for that. And for… The other thing,” said Maura awkwardly. “It helps.”

Touched by the genuine gratitude in Maura’s voice, Hope reached out and squeezed her hand. “Don’t mention it,” she said.

“I’ll have her back before you know it,” said Tim. “Shall we?”

He led Maura down the hallway towards the back of the building. As they got closer Maura could hear the unmistakable sound of Jane’s voice, although she couldn’t quite make out the words. They rounded a corner and entered a large, open room - a basketball court, Maura realized. She was surprised to find it in an LGBT youth center in downtown Boston. “Wow,” said Maura. “This is a very impressive building.”

“It used to be a YMCA,” explained Tim. “I bought the place when I moved to Boston. Marisol and I were very lucky to have found it. We have a pool, too.”

The part of her mind that always wanted to ask inappropriate questions immediately began formulating one about how much such a massive purchase might have cost, but then she locked eyes with Jane across the room and, as it so often did, her smile made Maura forget everything else. Jane was standing in the middle of a large blue gym mat at the center of the basketball court, and there was a circle of athletically-clad youths surrounding her. Jane herself was dressed the way she usually did when she exercised - shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A different inappropriate thought occurred to Maura, and this time there was nothing to stop it from coming out. “God, she’s gorgeous,” she said with a lovesick sigh. Then she realized what she’d said and quickly added: “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

But Tim just smiled at her and said, “Of course you should have.”

Maura was still blushing when Jane called out to them across the gym. “Perfect timing. I could use a volunteer for my next demonstration. But since I can’t exactly beat up on my lovely fiancee, I think I’ll have to settle for Tim here. What do you say?” Jane was in a good mood. Teaching this self-defense class was reminding her of her time in Quantico. Though she didn’t miss Virginia at all, it was still fun to be in front of a class again, even if it was only for a few hours. And the kids were a great bunch - open and enthusiastic, clearly comfortable in their safe space at Rainbow Way.

“Me?” said Tim, surprised.

“Yeah,” said Jane, grinning. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape. I promise I won’t hurt ya too bad.”

“Come on, Tim!” chimed in one of the kids, a huge grin on her face. “Or are you too scared?” All the other kids laughed and joined in, trying to convince Tim to participate in the lesson.

“Scared? Me? Pfft!” Tim puffed out his chest and strode up towards Jane, and all the kids clapped and cheered. Jane was at least a foot taller than he was, but he was utterly unintimidated and stood his ground before her. “What are we doing?”

“Pay attention, guys. This is what you do if someone tries to attack you from behind. Tim, I want you to come up behind me and put your hand on my shoulder.”

Obediently, Tim walked around Jane and reached up to touch her. But no sooner had his hand made contact did Jane grab his arm, twist her whole body, and use her feet to trip him. She effortlessly redirected his momentum to flip him in the air, and he landed flat on his back on the mat with a loud thwump. The kids erupted in uproarious laughter. 

Jane leaned over him to peer down at his stunned face. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “Just give me a second to re-inflate my lungs.”

“Let me call you a doctor. Hey, Maura,” she said, motioning to Maura, who was wearing her doctor’s coat and trying to hide her smile. The kids all laughed again.

Maura approached Tim and knelt down next to him, making a show of checking him over and listening to his heart with her stethoscope. “He’ll live,” she announced to the still-giggling class. To Tim, she said, “Sorry about her. She gets a little… over-enthusiastic.”

“Are you kidding? Don’t apologize for her,” said Tim, taking Jane’s hand and letting her pull him to his feet. “That was awesome! You gotta show me how you did that!”

“Sure,” said Jane amicably. 

“Think you can find your way back on your own, Dr. Isles?”

“Please, call me Maura. And yes, I can.” She poked an accusing finger in Jane’s chest. “You be gentle with these kids, Jane. I don’t want to have to treat any broken bones today.”

Jane snatched Maura’s hand before she could retract it and kissed the back of it. “You got it, Doc,” she said.

“Aww!!” said nearly all the kids.

“So sweet,” cooed one girl.

“Alright, enough,” groused Jane. “I know we’re adorable. But don’t forget I’m about to beat you all up, so you better be careful about what you say.”

“I’m heading back now,” Maura said. “Have fun in here.”

“Bye Maura,” said Jane, and all the kids echoed her farewell.

The rest of the self-defense lesson went smoothly, and kids came and went from the gym throughout the entire two hours. From what Jane could tell, some of the kids were actually living here, and some of them were only visiting. She learned that there were other events happening in other parts of the center at the same time. Along with Maura and Hope’s medical clinic, there was a knitting class down the hall and a movie playing in a room that had been converted into a theater after Tim’s organization had bought the property. There were other adults present, additional volunteers who looked after the kids and offered emotional support if needed. Jane was seriously impressed with the whole operation, and she told Tim as much after the lesson ended and they were folding up the gym mats together.

“You seem to have built something really special here,” she said as they leaned the mat against the wall of the gym. Now that the floor was clear, a couple of teenagers started playing a game of basketball. They both leaned against the mat to watch. “I can tell the kids love this place. And there are so many of them, too. I never knew we had this many gay youths here in Boston.”

“Well I wouldn’t exactly classify them all as gay, but yes, most of them consider themselves to be a member of the alphabet soup in way or another.” Seeing Jane’s confusion, he clarified: “It’s a colloquial term used to describe all the various abbreviations for queer identity, like LGBT.”

“Ah,” said Jane. “Alphabet soup. I get it. So what about you, then? You’re dating a woman but you started an organization for non-heterosexuals. Do you also swim in that soup?”

Tim gave her a wry smile. “You really are new to the community, aren’t you? Most people don’t ask others to out themselves like that. It’s generally considered to be impolite.”

“Oh, shit, my bad,” said Jane hastily. “Forget it, then. You don’t have to answer.”

Pushing away from the wall, Tim motioned for Jane to follow him and they headed out of the gym together. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. In a way I actually kind of find it refreshing. I would say that my letter is Q, for queer.”

This was the second time Tim had used that word, and Jane had found it equally as jarring both times. “Isn’t that word kind of an insult?” she asked. “I feel like I’ve heard asshole bigots using it in movies, usually in a southern accent while threatening someone with violence.”

“It’s a reclaimed word, kind of like dyke. Twenty years ago lesbians would have been furious to be called that, but now we have Dykes on Bikes riding in the Pride parade every year.”

“Hey, I’ve actually heard of that!” exclaimed Jane excitedly. “That’s the first time I’ve understood a gay reference.”

“Our little baby dykes do grow up so fast,” said Tim wistfully. "Soon you’ll be telling me you already have a costume to be of the Marching Xenas next Pride.”

Jane laughed and slapped him on the arm. “You couldn’t pay me to wear that outfit.”

“You sure? I bet your fiancee would like it. I mean, women in leather? Come on!”

“Now that’s an interesting point. I might have to think about that.”

“I know a great place to get a prop sword,” said Tim.

They reached the front of the building, where a young woman sat behind a reception desk working on something on a computer. She greeted Jane and Tim pleasantly as they went behind the desk and entered the office beyond. “So what does ‘queer’ mean, anyway?” Jane asked innocently, plopping down onto a cushy couch to rest. Though she would never admit to it out loud, the self defense lesson had taken a lot out of her. She was looking forward to going home to take a bubble bath, perhaps with a certain doctor she was quite fond of. _ Oooh, and there could be wine involved_, she thought.

Tim’s voice abruptly jolted her out of her daydream. “To me, I think of it as sort of an umbrella term,” he explained. “It’s a catch-all. It means that the traditional labels don’t feel right to me, but I do consider something about myself to be out of the norm. That’s how Marisol thinks of herself, too. We kind of resist definition and prefer to think of ourselves as just… Well, queer.”

“Huh,” said Jane thoughtfully. “Queer. I kind of like it.” She leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees. “Maura and I are both a little confused, I guess you could say. Neither of us has ever been with a woman before, or even _ wanted _to be with one. I don’t know why this happened to me. All I know is she’s the only person I’ve ever loved, and I’d basically curl up and die without her.”

“That’s very romantic, in a co-dependent kind of way,” teased Maura, who had just appeared in the doorway. Behind her was Hope, who was carrying her doctor’s bag. Maura joined Jane on the couch, but Hope lingered nervously near the door.

“We’re all packed up and ready to go,” Hope told Tim. “The truck is waiting for me out front. I came by to say farewell, and that you have my number and you can feel free to call any time you want to do this again.”

“Let me walk you out,” said Tim, getting to his feet.

“Alright. Goodbye you two,” she said to Maura and Jane.

“Later, Hope,” said Jane. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yes, thank you again for everything,” Maura added pointedly, and Hope nodded her understanding before leaving the room with Tim.

Once they were alone, Jane looked at Maura and said, very seriously, “Maura, I have something important to tell you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Maura said, “Yes?”

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it.” She took a deep breath and said: “I’m queer.”

Maura burst into laughter. “Oh my god,” she choked out.

“What? I can’t believe you’re laughing at this very important thing I told you.” Jane crossed her arms and angled her body away from Maura.

“You’re definitely queer, Jane, in every sense of the word. That much is certain.” She reached out and gently turned Jane’s face back towards her. “Thank you for telling me. That must have been very difficult for you.”

Giving up her act, Jane shrugged. “Eh. I figured you probably already figured it out by now.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had my suspicions for quite some time, but it was the engagement ring that really gave you away.”

Tim returned to the office and went to sit down behind his desk. “So, did you both enjoy yourselves?” he asked pleasantly.

“I certainly did,” replied Jane enthusiastically.

“As did I,” said Maura.

“I’m glad. If you’re interested in helping out again, we are having a spring fling dance in two weeks, and we can always use an extra hand with that.”

Maura and Jane glanced at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. “Sure,” said Maura after a moment. “We’d love to help.”

“That was cute, what you just did,” observed Tim, pointing at them. 

“Shut up,” laughed Jane. “What do you want us to do for your dance?”

“We won’t really need you until the night of the dance itself, but on that day it would be great if you could come by early and help us set up, and then we could really use you as chaperones if you don’t mind sticking around.”

“We don’t mind,” Jane said. “Do we gotta dress nice?”

“There’s no dress code or anything, so that is entirely up to you.”

“It’s entirely up to me, actually,” Maura corrected him with a wink. “Rest assured, we’ll be dressing _ nicely_.” The last word was said with a pointed look at Jane.

Chuckling, Tim said, “You sound like Marisol. She’ll take any excuse to dress up. Not that I’m complaining. She has impeccable taste.”

“Where is Marisol?” Maura asked. “I was hoping to thank her for the lovely article she wrote about us.”

“She’s working today, unfortunately, but she’ll be at the dance. More accurately, she’ll be on the dance floor. The woman loves to dance. Sometimes she gives salsa lessons to the kids.”

They chatted with Tim for a little while longer before deciding to head home. To Jane’s delight Maura was game for a bubble bath, and as they soaked in the fragrant, steamy water together they each shared what they had learned about their own identities in their time at Rainbow Way. Ultimately they decided that it had been a great idea to go, and they were both excited to continue their involvement with the organization.

“Turns out having sex with a woman isn’t the only gay thing I enjoy,” quipped Jane. “Who knew?”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the way this chapter turned out. Hope you guys like it as much as I do.

There was only one Harvey Steinbaum practicing law in the city of Lexington, Kentucky, and Jane located him with ease. She called him up a few days after taking the job from Winslow Goodwin, after she'd exhausted all her usual methods of tracking people down in the city of Boston. Background checks, financial reports and her police contacts had all failed to turn up any leads on Amanda's whereabouts, so Jane had to take the case a little more seriously now and do some actual detective work. She found herself looking forward to the challenge, and she told Tommy she would handle the entire case by herself. Perhaps it was only a result of her newfound sense of community belonging, but she felt a kind of kinship to Amanda Goodwin even though they had never met.

This wasn't necessarily a good thing, and Jane knew it. Her business agreement was with Winslow, not Amanda, and if she managed to find Amanda even though she didn't wish to be found, it would put Jane in an awkward position. She would have to pass that information along to Winslow in order to honor their contract.

Refusing to let that deter her, Jane picked up her phone one afternoon and dialed the number for the office of Harvey Steinbaum, attorney at law. As a homicide detective, Jane had always had borderline antagonistic relationships with lawyers because the presence of a lawyer represented the end of her ability to manipulate suspects into divulging incriminating information with her interrogation techniques. But things were different now, and Jane tried to keep that in mind as she listened to the telephone ring. Prejudice against lawyers would do her no good in this situation.

"Office of Harvey Steinbaum, how may I help you?" answered a male voice on the other end.

"Good afternoon. My name is Jane Rizzoli, I'm a private investigator up in Boston, Massachusetts. I was hoping to speak with Mr. Steinbaum about a case I'm working on."

"Alright, let me check if he's available. One moment, please." Then there was soft jazz music on the line when the receptionist placed her on hold.

Jane tapped her pen on her yellow notebook impatiently as she waited, wondering if Steinbaum would make the connection between a PI in Boston and Amanda Goodwin and refuse to speak with her as a result.

Then the hold music abruptly cut off and Jane heard a much older man clear his throat before speaking. "This is Harvey Steinbaum," said a gruff voice.

"Hi, Mr. Steinbaum. My name is Jane Rizzoli…"

Steinbaum cut her off with a barking laugh. "It really is you! I thought my paralegal was pulling my leg, but I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Damn, I can't believe it."

"You've heard of me, I take it?"

"What true crime enthusiast hasn't? You're only the best damn detective in the country, plus there's all that hubbub recently about you and that mystery writer. I can't remember her name but the book was great. I couldn't put it down."

"Maura Isles is her name," supplied Jane. She couldn't believe her good luck. Having name recognition would be a huge help in getting Steinbaum to open up since he was already inclined to want to speak with her. "But I'm not a detective anymore. I run a private investigation firm here in Boston with my brother. That's why I'm calling - I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about a case I'm working on."

A hacking cough came through the lines, and Jane flinched away from the phone as though germs would be transported through it. She put it back to her ear in time to hear the man say, "If this is about Amanda Goodwin, I'll tell you the same thing I told the last private dick who pestered me about her: There won't be much I can do for you. I really don't know much, and what I do know I'm not at liberty to say."

"You know a lot more than me, though. I won't ask you to disclose anything you think is too private. But I'm working off next to nothing here, and if you could provide even the most basic of background information, it would be very helpful."

"Listen, I wish I could help you. I really do. But I've known that child since the day she was born, and I can't betray her confidence. I'm sorry."

Taking a leap of faith, Jane said, "Would it change your mind at all if I told you I already know she's a lesbian?"

A long pause followed this proclamation, and Jane chewed her bottom lip as she waited, wishing they were having this conversation in person instead of over the phone. "What makes you so sure?" Steinbaum finally said, and Jane gave a silent sigh of relief.

"Call it a gut instinct," replied Jane. "I saw some pictures of her in high school. She seemed pretty cozy with one of her soccer teammates."

Steinbaum cleared his throat again. "That would be Lucy, my daughter."

_Jackpot_, thought Jane. But she remained silent, knowing it would prompt Steinbaum to continue.

"They were always thick as thieves growing up, but then I guess at some point they got thicker. I handled all the Goodwins' legal issues, you see. I considered her father a friend before he passed, though there wasn't much we agreed on outside of how to handle his business affairs. Anyway, one day I caught Lucy and Amanda together while they were juniors in high school. My god, I don't think I've ever seen my daughter cry so hard in all her life. She really thought I would toss her out on the streets for something so insignificant. She actually thought I would - that I _could_ \- love her any less for it. Impossible. Absolutely ridiculous. My father died in a concentration camp, Miss Rizzoli, right alongside men and women who were forced to wear pink triangles on their sleeves. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"I do," said Jane solemnly, her respect for this man skyrocketing.

"Now, the Goodwins, they're another story. Fire and brimstone Baptists, the lot of them. I was happy for her when she got into Harvard. I know you New Englanders tend to be a little more accepting of that sort of thing. Lucy went to Stanford Law and never came home after she graduated, but they kept in touch. Still do, actually, but don't tell that schmuck Winslow I told you that."

Jane chuckled. "Don't worry," she said. "Anything you tell me today won't make its way back to him. All he wants me to do is find Amanda. I'm under no obligation to tell him how I did it."

"Good. That Winslow, I have no idea where he came from. His father and I might have had different viewpoints on heaven and hell and everything in between, but at least he could be civil about it. Amanda was more like her father in that way, and then as she got older and more independent, there wasn't too much we disagreed on anyway. She spent a lot of time in my household as a teenager, trying to escape that family of hers."

"Can you tell me when was the last time you spoke with Amanda?"

"Sorry. Can't tell ya," replied Steinbaum. "It's complicated."

"What do you mean, complicated?"

"I mean complicated, alright?"

"But she collected her inheritance, right? So you must have had contact relatively recently."

"Move on, Rizzoli," grumbled Steinbaum. "You have your answer already."

Jane was thoroughly confused. What could possibly be complicated about a simple question like that? But she didn't want to risk having Steinbaum hang up on her, so she dropped the subject without further inquiry. "Okay then. Would it be too much to ask for your daughter's contact information?"

"If I don't give it to you, are you just gonna dig it up anyway?"

"Probably," admitted Jane. "I have enough to go off of. I know she's in California, I know her name and her age, I know she's a lawyer, and I know she went to Stanford. It might take some cold calling, but I'd find her eventually."

Another barking guffaw came through the line, and the sound of it made Jane smile. "You really are the best damn detective, aren't you? Don't miss a damn thing. I might as well save you the trouble, then. You got a pen handy?"

After taking down Lucy Steinbaum's information, Jane said, "Thanks very much, sir. I really appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. Lucy is a loyal, overprotective friend. She's likely to be less inclined to help than I am. When she hears you intend to pass along information to that putz Winslow, she'll probably hang up on you. That is your intention, right?"

Jane hesitated before answering, "Well, those are the terms of our agreement, yes. It's why I've been hired."

"Let me tell you something, Rizzoli. In all my years practicing law, I've defended some real nasty people. People who, if not for the grace of the Constitution, might have a rough time finding someone willing to stand up for them. But luckily for those folks, us lawyers are bound to a higher calling. We hold sacred that all men have a right to competent representation, no matter what it is they've done. I really believe that, because I've seen what can happen when a society starts denying people their unalienable rights. Now I ask you, Jane Rizzoli, what higher calling are you beholden to? Because your decorated background in law enforcement suggests you're not the type of person to sell her soul for her next paycheck."

Blowing out a slow breath, Jane leaned back in her chair and considered his words. "If you're asking what I'll do if I find Amanda and she doesn't want Winslow to know where she is, I'm not exactly sure what I would do in that situation."

"Well," said Steinbaum, "I suggest you get sure before you call my daughter."

"Alright," Jane said. "I'll think about that. Thank you, Mr. Steinbaum. If you don't mind my saying, you sound like you're probably a damn fine lawyer."

"That's like saying I'm the least ugly troll living under the bridge, but I'll take it."

Just as she had done with every professional crossroad she had ever reached over the last dozen years of her life, Jane decided to consult Maura about her problem. After hanging up the phone with Steinbaum, she locked up the office and headed out, texting Maura that she would pick up dinner on the way home. Maura predictably requested that she choose something even somewhat healthy, and since Jane needed her help and also because she was hopelessly in love, she obliged. Instead of picking her usual fried favorite at the Chinese restaurant, she went with a vegetable stir fry that she'd seen Maura order many times. By the time she'd picked up the food and made it back to the house, Maura was already there.

She pushed open the front door to find her fiancee sitting at the kitchen island typing away on her laptop, a few papers spread out on the surface before her. "Hey," she said, looking up and smiling at Jane as she entered, and Jane felt a powerful surge of emotion as the utter contentment of the domestic moment settled over her.

"Hi," she replied, dropping the bag of food on the counter before taking Maura's face in her hands and kissing her. "I love you," she said afterwards.

With a flattered laugh, Maura said, "I love you, too."

"I'm really happy to see you."

"Why's that?" asked Maura, sounding a bit confused.

"Just because," replied Jane innocently as she began unpacking the food.

Unconvinced, Maura closed her laptop and cleaned up her papers. "Uh huh," she said drolly. "What's the real reason?"

"Ok, you're right. I need your help," confessed Jane. "It's this damn Goodwin case. I talked to the attorney today." And she relayed the contents of the conversation she'd had with Harvey Steinbaum.

"So what's the issue here?" Maura asked when she'd finished. "You're worried you won't want to give up Amanda's whereabouts to her brother when you find her?"

"Yes, exactly."

Maura scrunched up her brow in confusion, and Jane found it impossibly cute. "I'm sorry, but I'm not understanding why that's a problem."

"Because for all intents and purposes, Winslow Goodwin is my employer - at least for the duration of this case. Whatever it is that he wants, it's my job to get it for him."

"I see," said Maura, popping a string bean into her mouth. "So don't take the case."

"I already took it, Maur. We have his deposit. I already did a whole bunch of work on it. I ran checks and did some asking around. At this point I've sunk three days of work into this. Plus, by the way, those checks I ran? They're not cheap. And he's paying me a lot of money."

"Jane, at the risk of sounding pompous… _I _have a lot of money," said Maura bluntly.

"Yeah? And?"

"I'm only saying that if it's a monetary issue that's making you hesitate, you can afford to back out on this case."

Jane frowned and looked down at her plate, pushing her food around like a child who didn't didn't want to eat their vegetables. "I don't want you to be the only one pulling her weight around here," she mumbled.

"One case won't make a difference, I promise. Anyway, I don't feel like you're a burden. You work just as hard as I do, even if you don't pull in as much money. Plus…" A lecherous gleam came into Maura's eyes as she looked Jane up and down. "You and I both know, you pull your weight in many, _many_ other ways."

The comment made Jane laugh, and Maura was pleased she'd managed to bring her smile back. "Yeah, that's for sure. I'm the only one who can reach the light bulbs in all the ceiling fans," Jane teased, and Maura reached over and lightly slapped her shoulder.

"That was rude and uncalled for."

"Don't you mean it was a…" Jane paused for dramatic effect before finishing: "_low blow_?"

"No, I absolutely did _not _mean that. I see what you're doing, Jane. You're deflecting. I know the money isn't what's bothering you. You don't want to break your contract with Winslow Goodwin because of a misplaced sense of professional integrity and pride. If you don't complete the case as promised, it would be the first case you've taken on as a PI that you wouldn't be able to solve to your client's satisfaction, and that bothers you."

"_Damn_, Maura," hissed Jane. "At least wait until we're in the bedroom to strip me bare like that, willya?"

"Does that mean my assessment was accurate?"

"Pretty much spot on," Jane admitted. "So what do you think?"

"I think that the reason you became a PI is because you wanted to be able to pick and choose your own cases, and be your own boss. The cases you work now don't always have bad guys, but when there is a bad guy, you catch them. Only this time, your client is the bad guy. If your so-called 'higher calling,' as Harvey Steinbaum put it, is to be a part of the greater good, then I think backing out of the case, while it might look like a failure to the casual observer, is actually a monumental victory."

Jane sat there gazing at Maura, her mind a million miles away. She thought of Amanda Goodwin, and how it might have felt for her to grow up knowing that her own family, her own flesh and blood, would want nothing to do with her if they knew who she really was. What would Jane have done if Angela and Frankie and Tommy hadn't accepted her and Maura? The feelings of alienation and isolation must have been so hard for the young Amanda to deal with. Then she thought of Harvey Steinbaum and his loving, empathetic soul, who had accepted Amanda for who she was and opened his home to her to help her get by. At that moment Jane knew she wanted to be more like Steinbaum than Winslow Goodwin, no matter what the potential cost to her or her reputation might be. There was no way the worldly hurt she would suffer by siding with Amanda would be greater than the damage her spirit would suffer for siding with Winslow.

"Alright," Jane said at length. "Okay. I think I've got my head on straight now. I'm going to keep trying to find Amanda, because at the very least, she should know that her brother is looking for her. But then I'll leave the next step up to her, and I'll respect her wishes no matter what she chooses."

"Good," said Maura, reaching out to take Jane's hands in hers. "I think that's the right thing to do."

Jane focused her full attention on Maura, raising her hands to her lips to give each one a tender kiss. "I knew talking to you would help. It always does. I'm really glad I'm marrying you."

"Likewise, my darling Jane."

With her mind made up and a plan in place, Jane was impatient to take the next step. The next morning seemed to drag by as she waited for a reasonable hour to make a call to California. Due to the 3-hour time difference, she waited until one PM to pick up the phone, and then she eagerly dialed the number that Steinbaum had provided for his daughter Lucy's law office in San Francisco.

"Lucy Steinbaum," said a woman's voice in a crisp, business-like tone.

"Good afternoon, Miss Steinbaum. My name is…"

"Jane Rizzoli," interrupted Lucy. "I know. It's morning here in California, by the way."

"Err… Whoops. So you were expecting my call, I take it?"

"My father told me I'd be hearing from you. And I believe he told you I wouldn't want to help you. You should have listened to him."

"I did listen to him," said Jane passionately. "I listened better than you can possibly know. Listen, I know you don't know me, but I swear to you, I will not give Winslow Goodwin any information that Amanda doesn't want him to have."

"I believe you, Ms. Rizzoli. I really do. But it doesn't change my mind. I'm telling you right now, you need to leave this one alone."

Surprised, Jane said, "Excuse me?"

"Stop looking for Amanda Goodwin," said Lucy. "It's better for everyone if you just let this go."

This was not going the way Jane had anticipated, and she felt flummoxed and perplexed. She took a moment to regain control of her thoughts, forcing herself to return to the clear, focused mindset required to think on her feet during an investigation. "Look, these are the facts of what we're dealing with here. One: Amanda Goodwin is missing. Two: Winslow Goodwin is looking for her. And three: There's a lot of money involved somehow. If I drop this case, Winslow will just take it to another PI, and they'll find her instead of me. And if you think there's another PI in Boston who will be willing to take Amanda's wishes into account when running their investigation, you'd better think again. This is the best offer she's gonna get. I am the best case scenario here."

There was an extremely long pause after this, but Jane could hear the sounds of Lucy's office in the background, so she knew Lucy was still on the line. Someone there was making copies, and two of her coworkers were discussing the most recent episode of a television show that Jane had never watched.

Finally, after a full three minutes of silence, Lucy said, "In college, Amanda was president of the Queer Student Union during her senior year. You'll find what you're looking for there."

And then, before Jane could reply, she hung up the phone. When Jane dialed the number again, it went straight to voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message.


End file.
